The Bat Warlock

by Greymon Leader Batx flashpoint

A mini series, what would have happened if Merlin became Camelot's answer to Batman? What would happen if the boy of destiny became another extension of the Dark Knight? Check out this mini series to see 3 chapters.

3. The Hallowed War Of Midnight

Chapter 3 – The Hallowed War Of Midnight

Morgana's room the following evening

Morgana had dressed down into her silk purple nightie. The ward was seated on her chair near her window as Gwen began brush her ladies' hair. With each brush Morgana felt a relaxing rift pass over flesh. Various inner tensions gradually being released from her nerves helping Morgana enter a better state of tranquilness.

She needed such pampering after today's events. Not long after Luthor's defeat, her guardian cancelled whatever remained of the tournament. The 'capture' of the Bat Warlock took priority above all else as far as Uther was concerned. The king ordered every knight and guard to hunt down the outlaw. As for the knights who were originally visiting for the tournament. Uther promised each man a handsome reward for their loyalty and services to the crown if they lend their arms for the witch-hunt.

"Uther just wants him dead." The ward couldn't help but bemuse. 'No matter how much it could cost him. His popularity, his money or even his crown. The king will wager everything in his disposal. All because he can't stand the existence of magic; because he can't stand the sight of a being who could use it for good."

"Someone who could prove him wrong." Morgana sighed sadly. She admired her protector's strength. True she made it no secret how she felt about his methods; but even the high-spirited ward had to admit. Uther's might be one of the aspects she admired of the man. It had been one of the key elements in keeping Camelot secure.

Unfortunately, it too was one of the aspects which she found herself despising her foster farther. Uther's might; for Morgana was a weapon of blindness. The king would often lose sight on the potential of mercy. Which was the tragedy of the king. In Morgana's opinion. A man without mercy is a man who is destined fall one day.

For who would show mercy to the merciless?

It was the main reason why Uther was so fanatical with capturing the Bat Warlock. True the king would go fanatical in anything related to ending the so-called tyranny of magic; but it was sadly a representation on how easily Uther feared enemies. As a child, she remembered stories from her late farther on Uther's uprising against the former sorcerer king of Camelot. Morgana never could find the identity of the previous dynasty. Not properly at least. Once Uther had been crowned, the rebelled monarch ordered every record and document of the previous dynasty be destroyed. The entire magical royal family of Camelot. Scorched out of existence forever.

Even her farther never revealed to her the names of the past dynasty. Only their family crest was a red robin. This was the full extent of her knowledge about them. It was an aspect which Morgana found interesting about the previous rulers. Trolls, Griffins, Unicorns. Albion has a wide array of magical creatures for supremacy of warlocks to pick as their house's emblem.

So why something so innocent as a robin?

Back to the point she was trying to make for herself. Uther was never prince like his son. Originally the Pendragon's were nobles who lived in Camelot's court. In terms of lands and estates, before their newly kingship they were barons and sheriffs who oversaw the lands of Bridgford. A decent and rich community near the southern borders of Camelot as the ward had been told.

Uther and her farther were originally knights too the former king. Proving themselves in both in physical combat and tactical planning. The two friends easily gotten themselves into the former monarchs' good graces. It was not long before their knighting…an event the ward was sure the family would come to later regret.

Morgana never knew where the Uther's hatred of magic stewed from. She just knew it was the most powerful weapon Uther had in order to commence his decades of butchery. Just within one day Uther had morphed from loyal knight to determined conquer. Within the old court Uther used his knightly status to sway various lords to his cause. Promises of marriage, lands and various other forms of powerful bribery which could draw in the sincere of souls. Dripping temptation and righteousness into the ears of the naïve members of the old court. By promises and words Uther had acquired the army he needed to secure his operation.

To scrub magic from the very core of Camelot. Both the essence and even the very people he once vowed to protect.

Therefore, was why Uther was so determined to destroy the Bat Warlock. Uther knew the full danger of what one man could accomplish. Her guardian's past was evidence of such an outcome, while Morgana doubted the Bat Warlock had any intention to be king. She was wise enough to understand her foster father's fears.

One person; one man, one woman, one babe even could change the entire state of the realms order. Uther had been a prime student in the methods. The power of one could become the power of a million. The Bat Warlock had made strides towards these feet by helping Arthur. The cheers from the crowds were the evidence Morgana needed to conform this fact. As well for Uther's paranoia of a power take to be justified.

Question now was who was in the right? Did the Bat Warlock truly wish to protect Camelot? Or did the Bat Warlock wish to take over the kingdom? Morgana, wish she had a certain answer. She thought once she had a clear answer to this theory; even more so when the outlaw saved Arthur and Gwen; but this sharedness the vigilante covered himself with.

He was a fearful abyss no one could truly make out. Not even her; she learned that sorry fact today.

"My lady." Gwen interrupted Morgana's train of thought. The combing session had been completed. Now the young maid simply wished to turn in for the remainder of the evening.

Morgana understood her maid perfectly in that regard. "Of course, thank you Gwen." Morgana motioned as she stood up from her nicely carved chair and made her to the bed. "Will you be alight traveling back tonight?"

"I will be my Lady thank you." Gwen answered pleasantly. True Gwen still felt a pang from her attack. Yet even in the smallest amount of time the young girl found her confidence returning to her. She couldn't truly explain it, but the young maid found an iron within her. Anytime she imagined a second attempt on her virtue an unbending waver took over her mindset, which allowed her to take on the danger head on.

Not to mention the small dagger her farther gave for protection.

As lady and maid said their evening goodbyes. Gwen swapped the last candle making the entire room enter a state of tranquil darkness. The steeling creaking of the door closing was the final sound Morgana heard for the final hours of this very day.

The ward only had the silence and the darkness of her room as her company. Morgana laid the cold blanket on her front. Allowing the softness of her mattress takeover her senses. The Bat Warlock had taken enough of her time this day and night.

In her dreams at least for now she had an excuse to cast the outlaw out of her mind. At least this is what she hoped.

The Vision

The ward found herself in the square of Camelot. The square itself was normal enough. The knight statue was where it should be, the steps were clean and dusted. Nothing was out of the ordinary at least in the physical aspects.

Morgana looked up the sky. It was neither day nor night but rather in a limbo like stage. A dyeing misty orange. It was normal for an Autumn sunset, but this certain sunset. This eclipsed sunrise echoed a deathly hallow which Morgana could not help but find intimidating.

A killing coldness swept in the grounds. Morgana tried to protect herself from the nasty chill by covering herself. Only to find out she was not wearing anything at all. The Ward gasped; feeling a quench of embarrassment overtake her.

Being in the middle of the courtyard wearing absolutely nothing was not something Morgana had in mind in in terms of a bucket list. Covering her breasts and her hands the ward attempted to run to back to her chambers before one eye within the castle saw her.

Only to be stopped by a hand from the ground! Morgana screamed as the scarecrow like hand kept hold of her bare leg. Morgana collapsed tripping on her behinds. The ward kicked the dammed hand off her. Only to see the straw hand still holding her hold in a tight hold despite being separated from the ground.

Morgana ripped the hand of her. Skewing the fingers away. Morgana was about to get up only for another strawed hand to grab her arm keeping her down. Morgana tried to pry the new arm off only for another arm to take hold of a free arm. Soon a whole array of strawed arms busted out of the tiles of Camelot's square. From the grounds, from the walls, from the ceilings even from the knight statue.

The entire courtyard was filed up entirely of scarecrows like arms. Hundreds and hundreds of these wretched hands squealing like a wild pigling and Morgana was being mummified by each of these arms. Her entire body had been engaged by the strawed arms, pinning her down keeping her forcibly in place in a T position, as one new hand after another covered her bare flesh. Only her left eye was left exposed though Morgana knew it would not be long before it to would be hidden. Even though it was just a dream the feeling was the none the less horrid. The ward felt each hand grab and scratch her fair skin in a predatory like fashion. As if the hands wanted to dissect her entire being. For what reason Morgana didn't know nor wished to know.

Suddenly! A tremor bounced throughout the grounds of the dreamed kingdom. A titan's roar bellowed throughout the imaginary realm. The cold atmosphere morphed to a warm summer breeze, the orange sunset sky within a few seconds morphed into a blazing night.

Morgana used her one free eye to see what caused such a godly stir. A pounding noise echoed once south of the courtyard, then a second time near the south gates. Morgana could feel the strawed hands shiver from the fright of the impending figure. What could have been so possibly frighting that could cause this infestation to stop.

Her answer would come in the form of a ginormous navel flame. Morgana squealed from the incoming attack. The furious blue fire scorched the straw hands into absolute sunder. The hands could only wriggle in agony trying their hardest to cool down; but without water and being made from straw.

There was no chance for the parasites to escape their enflamed fate.

Being freed from her mummification. Morgana bounced right back up to see the devastation before her. The entire courtyard had been transformed into a graveyard like setting. Every single place where the strawed hands had been (which was everywhere). The walls, grounds, the statues and windows. The entire citadel was now corpse black, with blue crystal embers cindering slowly out of the remains of the parasite army.

Morgana felt her heart shake from the sight. Her home, her castle had been reduced to a blue flared ash. While she herself had not been harmed by the fire, the mere sight of this destruction compensated for whatever physical anguish.

A hulked stomp crashed behind her. The wild breeze from its landing coursed through her long raven hair. Making her long locks rapidly flow from the reaction. Once the wind had died down Morgana turned to face the beast which had saved her.

The titan of a creature made itself known to the ward. It had the towers body of a dragon, but the skin of a black bat! The head had a dragon's snout but the ears and blood shot eyes of a bat. The wings bladed to a bat's fashion. With a damming navy mohawk coming down its head.

This bat dragon, this Nightwing examined the young ward. A strong cold stench blew out of its snout. The watery fangs crunched together. Its spiked devil like tail purred on the burnt ground like a cat.

Morgana had every reason to fear this monster. Even more so than the militia of the scarecrowed hands. Yet she could not. Looking at this creature, she felt a strange feeling of protection. Of acceptance, the understanding that it would make everything alright for her. It didn't know how; it didn't know what trials and tribulations they would face; it didn't know who they would lose in the process of their journey.

But it would do its best. This was all the creature was asking of the ward. To believe it would do its best for her. It would be a while before she could ever believe in it fully but for now just believe in its sincerity in this unspoken plea.

Morgana let her arms slip effortlessly down to her sides. The ward strode slowly towards the Nightwing. Her bare feet getting dirty from the ash beneath her. The Nightwing just eyed her melodiously with each step she took. Trying to determine her next actions.

The ward looked up her eyes at the great bemouth above her. The Nightwing, bent its long neckline down to her. Its blood red eyes squarely focused on her. With the Nightwing's head now down to Morgana's level. The ward could feel the strange warmth but cold essence transmitting out from the creature.

Morgana just smiled at the strange but great creature. The Nightwing pushed its head towards her arms. Soon the ward herself hugging the Nightwing's head. Clutching the soft scales like how a mother held her new-born baby. She stroked the hairs of the creature; the sharp surges strode throughout her fingers gave her the same tranquillity she would gain when Gwen brushed her hair.

For this was the feeling Morgana would have with a friend.

Awake

Morgana busted out a gasp for air as she violently awakened from her sleep. Damp sweat grizzling out of her physical features.

"What the hell was that?!" She demanded to herself. Morgana checked her body; she was still fully clothed in her silk nightgown. The ward hastily checked her wrists to see if there were any scratches or cuts.

"None." Morgana quieted herself down. Her breathing returning to a more normal stage of rhythm. So, the whole ordeal had just been one of her nightmares. "Dam." She moaned to herself. Covering her face with both hands in a sorrowful manor. What the ward wouldn't give to have one of Gaius's sleeping drafts right now or better yet what she would give for the man himself. The late physician always knew the right words to say to her when she suffered this mental backlash of an aftermath from these night terrors.

Morgana looked around her room quickly to be assured nothing was amiss in her chambers. After a brief scan. The ward returned to her slumber, huddling deeper into her quilt. Making the blanket her personal shield for the rest of the evening. Doing her best to forget the terroristic dream she had experienced beforehand.

All Morgana desired was just a good night's sleep. Was that so hard to ask?

The morning after – Camelot's dining room

Doing her best to forget the dream from the night before. The ward's current agenda for this morning was to finish the breakfast before her. That and stomach Uther's progress report on his manhunt of the Bat Warlock.

After she returned to her slumber. Morgana didn't have a second nightmare or a continuation of her previous night terror. Which the ward was grateful for; sometimes a dreamless sleep could be an absolute luxury for one such as herself. Once Gwen awakened her, the ward proceeded with her daylight rituals. Hot bath to jump start her day, finding a nice set of clothes to wear. A nice silver-white one she got in the summer would do. With Gwen doing up her hair nicely, Morgana entered the grand hall where she and her foster family would often share their meals.

"Ah Morgana." Uther welcomed gently. Waving his hand for her to take a seat. Morgana took her place between her adopted family. Uther wearing his usual black royal attire at the head of the table which was to be expected for the monarch. Arthur in his red jacket seated on the right side, and Morgana herself on the left. These three positionings, these three regular rulings had been kept in tack for as long as the ward could remember.

On the table were an assortment of early morning foods. Bacon, Sausage, toast, black pudding, hash browns and any type of egg the royal family could possibly desire. While the farther and son would often pick up a large plate of these foods. Morgana would often be satisfied with a poached egg with toast underneath with a side of sausage.

Morgana's eyes peeked at the fourth person in this morning meal. The young boy Merlin: Arthur's

new manservant was pouring water for his new employer. Morgana couldn't help but feel sorry for the new servant. Not just for the loss of Gaius, but for being in a preclusion's situation in Camelot. While the boy had a job, his living arrangements were still debatable. "Uther just needs to hire new physician. That's all it would take for him to be out on his ear." Morgana thought sadly. Not to mention the physical humiliation he suffered from Luthor the evening before. "From what Arthur told me. Merlin just came to this kingdom for a new start. Instead, it bestowed him with daily survival."

Morgana pondered silently the new boy's recent developments. Uther did no such thing. The king had more pressing matters he wished to focus on "Have you gotten any news on the hunt?"

"Did he even congratulate Arthur for taking Luthor down?" Morgana asked herself as she rolled her eyes disappointingly.

"I received some reports from Sir Leon and Earl Hamming this morning." Arthur answered solemnly.

"And?" Uther asked with his expected stiffness.

Arthur gummed down his jaws. "Just like the first time farther; he's just vanished."

A low tired growl escaped Uther mouth "How!" Uther demanded slamming his fist down onto the table. Morgana needed to hold her plate to prevent it from falling to the floor. "The outlaw has the nerve to mock me in my own kingdom but when he has a dam moment to truly face the might of Camelot and her king, he slinks a way like a rat. I should expect such cowardice from his kind."

"Perhaps if you weren't hunting his kind down, he wouldn't need to hide like a rat as you so like to call him." Morgana thought to herself. She viewed her foster farther with daggers glaring out of her eyes "As for his 'mockery' of you. You do know he saved the lives of your family yesterday at great risk to his own? From a man you thought was your loyal to you beyond reason?" Morgana couldn't help but quip at Uther's irrational behaviour "Instead of rewarding for his selfishness towards you. You're just going to punish him like the rest of your victims. All because of your fear." The ward mentally sighed.

Uther was about to continue his verbal lashing of the Bat Warlock a page boy entered the hall abruptly "What is it!" Uther demanded not in the mood for any annoyance whatsoever. The page boy came to the king's side and whispered a series of screes words into the kings left ear. Morgana witnessed her guardian's eyes widen hastily to an extreme length she never thought possible from the man. If Uther had been a weaker man, she was sure they would have popped out.

Uther used his handkerchief to whip any traces of food off his lips. "Arthur, get some of your men ready. We need to go to small towns." The king declared.

The prince looked at Morgana surprisingly and then back to his farther "Why farther I don't understand."

"Just do what I have asked!" Uther roared. To another one of Morgana's surprises her guardian turned his attentions to Merlin "Boy. How learned are you in healing? Did Gaius teach you anything in medicine before he died?"

Merlin rubbed the handle of the water jug he had been holding. Unsure on the best way to answer the thunderous monarch's question "Well I eh."

"Yes or no idiot!" Uther growled not having the patience for a simpleton's delay.

"Gaius and even my mother taught me some basic remedies your grace." Merlin admitted straightforwardly trying to satisfy the king. Hoping the monarch wouldn't lose his temper at him again.

"What about anatomy?" Uther questioned.

"A bit of it my lord." Merlin truthfully answered. In truth his skills and knowledge in anatomy and medicine as a whole; was still rather small. At least in the scientific aspects of the subject. Unlike the magic the last dragon bestowed upon him. With those spells the secret vigilante had the capability to fix and cure a certain number of aliments, but only a certain number.

Uther sighed wishing there was a better person with stronger medical knowledge to ask but means must "Fine, you are to accompany us." The king ordered twiddling his fingers to make a sign for Arthur to leave the hall with Merlin in toll.

The prince caught his father's message and grabbed Merlin by the shoulder. The young manservant gave the jug of water to one of the handmaidens as he and the prince left the hall. Uther was about to leave himself, but Morgana stopped him by taking hold of his hand "What is it?" She asked worryingly.

Uther sighed as he grabbed Morgana's other fair hand "It's nothing for to worry about Morgana. At least not for the moment"

Morgana frowned withdrawing her hands from her guardian "I hate it when you keep things from me." Morgana badgered "Aren't I your ward? Don't I have the right to know if there is a threat to this kingdom? To you?"

Uther breathed tidily not wanting to get into a row with his foster daughter. Not in a time such as this "Morgana. You need to understand I have a duty to this kingdom. One I must shoulder myself. I cannot just reveal potentially dangerous information to a whim of one my children. Not until I am assured of what the threat could be or if there is one at all."

"You were willing to allow Arthur to find out what it is?" Morgana shot back.

"That is because he is to be the next king." Uther finished off silencing Morgana. Morgana's eyes down casted understanding. True she could understand why Uther would not want to divulge the new possible danger to her. As a king he could not rise a panic in his people without reason. Morgana would keep her lips closed of course; still it hurt to know due to her not being one of his heirs, not even being of his blood. She still would be kept out of Uther's closet of circles. Their trust would still have their limits due to her station in his household. If she had been his daughter a true princess of Camelot; his direct heir, then perhaps the king would be willing to be more open with her on such matters instead of leaving her in the dark.

Morgana never wanted the throne and while she had issues with Uther. The man was still the last bid of family she had and to the man's credit Uther did try to love the two equally. While it was obvious Arthur would take some more precedence over her in the family due to him being the heir. It was still one of the few times since her move to the kingdom Morgana really felt she was the fostered child.

Uther sighed starting to understand his choice of words may have stung the girl who he considered a daughter. Uther placed his black gloved hand on Morgana's glassed cheek "I am sorry. I shouldn't have been so forthright. I promise if the issue escalates, I will tell you more. Just for now you must understand for the good of the kingdom I must keep certain knowledge to myself and only a few others. I cannot risk panic soaring out of Camelot. Rioting, looting, I cannot risk any of it unless, I am sure. You must understand this, Morgana."

Morgana sadly nodded to her guardian. This probably would the best she could hope for to know about the issue. "I trust your judgement your grace." Morgana replied gently trying to hide any disagreement in her voice.

"Good girl." Uther praised "Now find that handmaiden of yours. I heard some of the other ladies are planning a house ride through the forest. It would be good for you to join them." Morgana couldn't help but roll her eyes. Even though she wasn't a princess Uther seemed to like to treat her such as one. Just not the type of princess she wished to be.

"I will think about it." Morgana tried to promise despite the unlikeness of her honouring it.

Uther smiled at the young ward before departing the hall. Leaving Morgana alone. Morgana looked up at the stained-glass windows of the dining hall. Looking at the grey clouds creating a un rained mist around the imprinted pictures. Looking at the glass art works as they were now it was if they were being consumed by a bleakness of unfortunately.

The Lower Towns

"Well today could have started out better." Merlin thought as he inwardly yawned. Carrying a small pouch of medical herbs on his side the young manservant followed the King, the prince and two guards to the lower towns of Camelot.

Merlin looked around the poorer sections of the great kingdom. The young lad had passed once through these parts on his first day. At the time Merlin didn't truly take much notice of the desolate area his mind was still full of excitement and glee of his immigration into Camelot and finding Gaius too secure his job. The outlaw didn't have time to dabble with the rest of the inhabitants.

A feeling now Merlin now found himself regretting.

As the small party of people made their way forwards. Merin started to fully understand further not all of Camelot was star shimmering kingdom. On his first night at the Bat Warlock Merlin had been given a taster of a harsher reality of the realm at the hands of Uther and the Red Hood gang. Now going further into the alleyways and muddy passageways Merlin could see the full extent of the poor areas of the kingdom.

Merlin huffed coldly looking around in the area around him. The entire surrounding felt like a pig's hovel. Even's Gwen's part of town was a paradise compared to this area. Various mother sitting on the muddy wet floor cradling their wailing babes in rags. Children playing as their bare feet became scampered through the street as their toes became dirty. Various back handed men gambling and brawling in the alleyways. Washing lines hanging gallingly across the walls in a failed attempt to become dry.

Merlin sourly viewed the area. The young warlock should have understood his mother and Gaius better during his toddler days. The two family members tried to make him understand such kingdoms and even utopias like Camelot had their drawbacks, but the young man had underestimated how much.

Looking at this unindicated section within Camelot's walls. Felt like a refugee camp.

Merlin turned to face the other members of his party to see their expression on the matter. To see how they felt on the subject. The guards seemed to be showing small signs of sympathy for the lower towners not enough to be steered from their hard façade but enough for Merlin to know they felt something.

Arthur on the other hand. The minute the group had entered the strayed parts the prince's tough exterior had faltered immediately. It was another unexpected sign Merlin received from the prince of the king he could truly be. Arthur had been no stranger to such ghettos as this one but no matter how many times he had returned it still pained the prince knowing such a place existed in his kingdom. It was a reminder why Merlin did the right thing in creating the blue armour for the prince. If anyone who could improve these people's lives it was him.

Seeing his three companions' reactions gave Merlin some sense of humanity and compassion from Camelot's highest; but admittedly the one reaction Merlin truly was curious to see was that of none other than King Uther Pendragon himself.

Merlin eyed the zero tolerant ruler. The other three maybe sympatric but Uther was ultimately the one who could change things for these people. Gaius had mentioned in the past the king had been more lenient in the taxing these parts. Something Merlin had to admit he was grateful to Uther for; yet why hadn't Uther done anything else for them?

Unlike the other members. The king seemed to be unturned by the sight before him. Like usual in front of all his subjects Uther marinated his feared stance. Only focussed on the task ahead of them, looking for the object to why they were in this mission.

Merlin couldn't help but feel a wave of disappointment. Uther really was a shallow cad, wasn't he? Mentally Merlin had made it no secret how he felt of the tyrant. The minute he set eyes on the king he despised him for his harassment and persecution of his kind. How he was so willing to take the side of nobility.

Now the man was in the very centre of the people he had stated many times to protect. The people he often self-proclaimed to be a proud and just king for their sake alone.

"And he doesn't even bat an eye to their needs." Merlin frowned. Merlin past view on Uther during the funeral of Gaius had been expanded. The king would do whatever he needed to get rid of whoever he viewed as a threat regardless of who he would need to take down or ignore to do so.

It was another reminder why Merlin had made the right choice in becoming the Bat Warlock.

"Merlin here." The prince asked snapping Merlin from his review of the king.

Startled out of his mindset Merlin tried to get back to the question in hand "Where sire?" Merlin asked a little embarrassingly.

Arthur groaned. While the prince had gotten a bit more found of his new manservant after the Luthor incident the prince none the less still could be annoyed by the oafish mindset of his employee. "There!" Arthur pointed tiredly.

Merlin followed the direction of the prince's finger to what seemed to a man covered in a white cloth. Merlin bent down and gently removed the top part of the cover to get a better inspection of the victim. For what he was about to see was another matter entirely.

The man was dead of course. Merlin unfortunately had an obvious suspicion due to the cover up; yet examining the body. The Bat Warlock side of Merlin began to take over. True the body was dead but now the question was how?

"Well?" The king asked with a slight sarky but serious tone. "Can you determine what was the cause of death?"

While Merlin would have loved to give Uther an earful, he was wiser not too. Remembering the events back in the dining hall. It was clear the king had only brought Merlin along since he had some knowledge of medicine thanks to some teachings from Gaius. Merlin was just a desperate choice for a substitute physician. The king had no true faith in him. None the less Merlin would do his job. By using the one thing the king despised above all else.

Merlin went back to his autopsy. The skin was dead cold, no scars or bruises so the victim hadn't been killed by a weapon or physical action. Merlin did consider the possible fact the man may have died from natural causes. Until the young outlaw looked in the victims' eyes.

They were wide. Painfully wide. It was just too unnatural. Almost as if this man was surprised, he had died. Something more was happening here; Merlin understood this. The young lad needed a different pair to see.

"gadewch i mi weld y tu mewn iddo" Merlin whispered ever so quietly to make sure no one else in the group could have heard him. Once the spell had been cast Merlin could the corpse in a whole new different way.

With the sight Merlin had given himself thanks to his magic. Merlin could now see right inside the corpse. The skeleton, the organs, blood cells, nervous system every part of the inside body was now free for Merlin to check out.

Merlin tried to see what could be wrong. So far, much of the body was in fine shape. Which unreeved Merlin. If this person was in such fit condition, why had he died so abruptly and before his time?

Merlin checked the inner hands. Looking at a few connected veins. Merlin spotted a strange green bacterium coursing and sledging throughout the entirety of the vein system. Each vein leading the bacteria directly into the brain. As Merlin used his magic to process this strange green mulch. The young outlaw felt a strange vibration from the illness. A threating and fearful surge pushing Merlin away from its existence. To leave it be in its terrorising of the unfortunate victim.

"Terror." Merlin whispered turning his eyesight back to normal. Moving away from the corpse covering the top end.

"Terror?" Arthur quizzed not fully grasping what his servant concluded. "Merlin are you seriously suggesting this man was literally scared to death?"

Merlin needed to figure out a way to explain himself better without making it come off as idiotic or in his case unnatural due to his magical skills. "Gaius, explained to me once when I was still a toddler. A person can die by being exposed to something they see a truly terrifying. Something their mind can't cope with. Their entire body would shut down because they weren't able to cope with the fear."

Arthur was about to make a point that such a concept was either too far fetch or too stupid to be possible. Uther beat his son to the punch "What makes you think this?"

Merlin quizzed. He got this information from using magic not by opening the flesh of the corpse to find the green illness. The boy needed to think of a quick excuse to explain his reasoning. Merlin found a possible chance he just hoped it would work.

Merlin took off the top cover again "Your grace you see his mouth?" Merlin pointed to the open jaw. Opening carefully leaving a slight disgust in the party members "I am sorry for the ugliness; but you see his jaw is broken by both condylars. It's the parts of the mouth that keeps attached the upper and bottom parts. It would only be this broken if he screamed. Really screamed. The type of scream if he was scared out of his mind."

Merlin looked at the king's eyes. Hoping Uther would buy the excuse. "Fine so let's presume your theory is true. What on earth could have caused such a fright to this extent."

Merlin sighed thankful the king brought his explanation. Now came the part Merlin knew would hurt him. "I do not know the victim in question sire; while I do believe he died from fear I have reason to believe it was not natural." Merlin turned to a guard "Could I please borrow your guards knife sire?"

Uther nodded to the guardsman and handed the small weapon to Merlin. Merlin took the hand of the corpse and made a small cut in the dead body's arm. Merlin took a firm hold of the lifeless arm and squeezed the green oozed blood out. Allowing the sickness to drip.

"Good god!" Arthur gawked at the sight stepping forward to get a better picture of infection. Arthur faced Merlin in wonder "How the hell did you figure that out?"

"Your grace, Gaius did often tell me infection was usually in the blood." Merlin quickly summarized trying to have his simpleton expression brush off any further quizzing from the prince.

Uther pushed his son away and looked in better detail at the illness. The king's face turned to anger "Sorcery." Uther veiled out "It's a dam plague!" The king roared shaking the grotto as many of the inhabitants stopped in silence from the outburst.

Arthur pondered hoping this wasn't one of his farther fits "How can be sure farther?"

Uther placed his gloved hand on his chin. "During the great purge, after I slew the false king and began my rule. Many of my enemies of the past rule swore my death for their bastard monarch. One of them the wizard Arkham conducted a plague which worked in the same vile manor as what we have witnessed now." Uther pointed damming towards the corpse.

Uther turned to face his lower subjects "From hence forth Camelot is under quarantine! You are not to leave your homes unless you lack food and water only. If you are in need of any restocking of supplies, you must come to the castle directly where you shall be given a reason rationing. Anyone who dares brecks curve or even dares to steal from me shall be met with a beheading. UNDERSTAND!" The king ordered rocking the entire walls triggering the common folk to bow in fear to Uther's demands "Now got to your homes." The king finished.

The common folk scampered away back into their tents and box like houses. Leaving the royal group alone. Uther turned to face his subordinates "You two!" The king pointed at the guards "Get the rest of the king's guard. Scour the rest of my kingdom inform every man, woman and child of my proclamation. I will not allow unawareness as an excuse to escape sentencing" The guards walked away without another word.

The king now faced his son. "Arthur, I need you to ride out to the farms with our most trusted knights. Collect whatever harvest and grain you can find and store it in the castle. I do not know how long this wretched plague will last but I cannot gamble with the speculation of time. We must be prepared for every danger!" Uther declared.

Before the prince left his farther made another degree "And until this plague ends your manservant shall be our acting court physician."

"Merlin!" Arthur asked in awe not fully taking in what his farther has beseeched.

"Me your grace?" Even Merlin needed a repat of what Uther has asked.

"Yes you. While I would prefer one with more masterful experience you right now are the best this kingdom has in a healer." Uther grimly admitted "You proven such as much with your analysis. I do not know the full extent of what Gaius has taught you I doubt even you do." Uther insulted earning an uncomfortable twitch from Merlin.

"Right now, as king I must work with what I have regardless how simple minded. Now go and study up or so help me!" Uther threatened walking away back to the castle in order to make arrangements with the higher lords of his counsel.

The two boys could only just stare at each other in the silent grotto. No quips or jokes just silence and the worry both shared in one another expressions. For both Prince and servant understood today perfectly the unfortunate reality which had cursed their kingdom.

Gaius Chambers

"Study up he says." Merlin mentally muttered. Since breakfast the secret outlaw had been lock downed in his late great uncle's chambers. Various medical books opened laying messily on the floor, while an arsenal of piled wooden bowls and herbs were scattered around onto every findable table in the chamber.

Merlin hot and sweaty from his tenure had taken off his long jacket and rolled up the sleaves of his undershirt to keep cooler. Unfortunately, by that point his hair had become scruffy from the sweat. The young outlaw since the morning of the sickly revelation had spent every second onwards of this very day finding a way to cure the reawakened magical plague just as he had been ordered to or in Merlin's personal translation threatened to by Uther.

And what did the exiled ghost have to show for his hourly research? "Nothing!" Merlin choked out frustratingly. The young boy had done everything he possible could think of and he still was no closer to finding out how to stop the plague. By just standing here more and more people were succumbing to the terrorising illness. Merlin looked out of the window to see the night-time was looming. Twelve hours and the toll of victims had increased from one to now seventeen.

Merlin felt a sterned brush responsibility for those deaths draw over hm. True the illness was what ultimately took their lives, but Merlin could not help but feel he shared some blame. By not finding a cure even with the higher-grade magic bestowed upon him the young man felt utterly useless.

The young wizard had drugged out every book he could find on medicine and magical history to get a better insight on how this sickness worked. Experimented with a verity of herbal experiments; combing them with his magic to find a genuine cure but to no avail. All day long the routine had been the same research, experimenting and the waiting for a guard to knock at the door to collect him for examination of a new dead body. That part of his new temporary job Merlin hated the most.

It was another reminder of how he failed another person he swore to protect as the Bat Warlock. Even if he went into his costume, it would have made no difference. Merlin or Bat Warlock the boy had been so far from an obsolete component in this new crisis.

"Who knows. If Gaius was still alive, he probably would have solved this case in a flash." Merlin slighted himself sadly. "He always could fix anything even when I was a boy." Merlin looked down on his left knee. A small but gentle memory resurfaced for the outcast. On one of his visit's to Eldore. A six-year-old Merlin had bruised his knee in a game of ball with his friend Will. Looking back on the injury in the age he was now Merlin felt embarrassed he got so squeamishly tearful over a minor injury.

But what made the memory gentle in Merlin's eyes were the soft naturing hands of his great uncle. Hearing the cries of his great nephew the old man wasted no time in coming to his aid. Caressing a dark greenish platter on the injury easing the stinging pain the child Merlin felt. Seeing how the old man had been so gentle with him so kind in words to calm the toddler of Merlin's past. No criticizing, no back handing for his clumsiness. Gaius just did his job as a healer and as a good man. Merlin never got the atmosphere of trust surrounding Gaius out of his mind. The kind sensation of caring for a weaker creature than yourself. It had been another gift the Bat Warlock had inherited from Gaius.

God how much Merlin would give for his great uncle now. Merlin understood the king was desperate for a physician, but Uther really should have advertised outside the kingdom even beseeched one of the outer kingdoms for one; but no when Merlin asked Arthur for such a chance the prince dejectedly explained why it would certainly not happen. Merlin still remembered the prince's hollow words "My farther cannot look weak Merlin. Not in front of his enemies or even to his allies. Ask for aid from the outside hints he is weak. It makes him looks vulnerable to usurpers. No king can never afford such a labelling. Especially one such as my farther."

"What's with this place!" Merlin growled. Grabbing and one of the closets blows he could get his hands on and smashing it right against the wall. "How does the hell asking for help make you weak?" Merlin wondered angrily. "Does Uther really care about his pride so much he is willing allow his people to be killed by a lethal illness the king himself knows is deadly?" Merlin bustle and stressfully concluded.

A knock shuddered from the chamber's door. Merlin's skin crawled from his hatred of ambiance sound. It would seem once again another unfortunate victim had been claimed to the sickness and like the previous knocks he would have to go and examine the body. "Seventeen covered dead bodies were placed in the courtyard right next to the steps. The king ordered this to keep the plague away from the rest of the towns but also away from the castle itself. Personally, I think he just collects them to encourage himself to outdo the plague or perhaps he just wants a reminder of how he failed his people. I don't know. What I do know Uther can add number eighteen to the set." Merlin morbidly considered.

"Coming." The young outlaw muttered thirdly just begging for sleep. Not just because he had been overworked by the day's events and his new position but just having to deal with one dead body after the other. It had been a burden Merlin had to take on but still wished he didn't bear on his shoulders. Gaius's kindness was a gift to the Bat Warlock persona, but the loss of innocent life was an additional whip lash into Merlin's second person carried.

The acting physician took the handle of the door and used what was left of his withering expiatory energy to open the entrance. Only to be met with a final surprise for the evening. Instead of a Camelot waiting to take him to the next corpse. In the stead of the supposed guardsman place was none other than the kings ward the Lady Morgana.

Merlin felt his heart fluster was the unexpected sight of the novel figure before him. "My lady!" Merlin breathless exclaimed bowing his head in the respectful fashion one of his ranks must do.

"Please Merlin, there is no need." Morgana gently tried to reason with the manservant.

Merlin bubbled his mouth trying to think of the best way to move forward in a possible conversation. It was not everyday someone like this would call onto someone like him. "May I come in?" Morgana suggested eyeing the boy.

"Ugh…of course." Merlin corrected himself opening the door wider to allow the ward to enter. Doing his best to make the small gesture look welcoming in a small personal way.

Morgana entered the chambers. The ward mouth dropped in shock once her gaze registered how badly trashed the chambers had become by Merlin's search of a cure. "You…. you have been busy. Very busy indeed" Morgana attempted to compliment despite her amazement of the chaotic assortment of books.

Merlin sluggishly rubbed the back of his head. Grinning like a dumb hyena "Yeah, I've not been the best house cleaner of the century." Merlin giggled "Gaius would have fed me to his eels if saw this mess."

Morgana smirked "Don't worry I won't tell Arthur." Making a quite gesture with her finger.

"Thanks. Though to be fair he's been nicer to me since the whole Luthor incident…...Still he finds a way to be a prat. To me at least."

"That's Arthur for you Merlin. Like most knights they need to be the jock boys of the party." Morgana reasoned in a humours tone.

"True my lady or I might just know how to work my charley wiles on him." Merlin laughed out. Morgana let a giggle escape her lips. Only to be replaced with an expression of sadness. Merlin came closer to the young madam "My lady I didn't mean to upset you."

"Its not you Merlin." Morgana waved franticly. Morgana calmed her stance down "It's just this morning. My only worry was to survive a breakfast of Uther's Bat Warlock bashing. Now I've spent the rest of my day in my chambers under the lockdown. Fearing how many more people have died since the morning. It was horrible Merlin." Morgana confessed glumly "More horrid knowing this was just day one of this plague."

Merlin didn't know why but he found himself touching the right side of Morgana's shoulder. Normally he wouldn't dare such a thing as Merlin. Bat Warlock may have been a different story but Merlin the young lad needed to understand his limits and boundaries between himself and of Morgana's prestige.

"So why does this feel so right?" Merlin wondered. Surly this could be a good way to have Uther slice off his arm, but Merlin continued with his gesture. Not caring if there were to be negative repercussions in store for him.

"Thank you, Merlin,"

Relived Merlin released a warm jumbo of air from his jaw. "No problem my lady."

Morgana turned to face the young man "I needed a good laugh." Morgana admitted wiping away a small tear from her cheek. "It has been lonely without Gwen."

Merlin's eyebrows peaked "Isn't she with you?"

"No." Morgana revealed "Since the lockdown was declared. Uther only wants high grade servants from the noble households to take care of us. You know the sort ladies in waiting, Kings guard and so forth servants with a title of sorts. Uther feels people of Gwen's status and the fact she lives in the lower towns could help bringing in the plague." Morgana grunted angrily.

"I'm sorry." Was all Merlin could honestly say "From what I have seen you two seem to be close.

"Yes, we are Merlin, and I am glad for it." Morgana smiled remembering better days when she and her maid servant were still little girls playing in the castle gardens. "Don't get me wrong. While I miss her, I am glad she is safe with her farther." Now Morgana then pressed her hand on Merlin's left shoulder "But how are you doing in the chaos Merlin? I was surprised Uther named you acting physician. Here I am selfishly talking about my own troubles, but you have the worst one of them all. "Merlin in all seriousness has this taken a toll on you. So far at least." Morgana quizzed acting in a motherly fashion.

Merlin down casted his eyes. In truth ever since his arrival into Camelot the whole experience had been a toll for the undercover wizard. Uther's genocide, Arthur's duel, Gaius's death, Luthor's schemes and the curse of the Bat Warlock. The young man looked behind the ward to the cupboard where the outfit was being kept hidden. Even now Merlin could feel the outfit….no the skin of his second persona calling out to him. Like an addiction, begging him to put on the dark gear.

True Merlin as the Bat Warlock did feel like a different person; but now looking back on his recent escapades. The young outlaw underestimated how much so. As the Bat Warlock Merlin had used brutal methods, criminal tactics and even murder. Never in a hundred years Merlin ever thought he would do. Slicing the Red hood's hand and killing Luthor by gutting hm by the head. The Bat Warlock didn't regret his actions, but Merlin was still sorry he had to use these tactics none the less.

Did the dragon curse his gear as well? Was this a side effect of the ritual? Or were these feelings buried inside Merlin and only now decided to surface in full force. Merlin didn't know. For all the extended magic the last dragon had given him. This was one spell or curse the outlaw didn't know how to solve.

"I am just getting by my lady." Merlin answered casually "I am the type of guy who just gets by."

Morgana firmly gripped her hand on Merlin's shoulder "Just know you don't have to do it alone." Morgana smiled but frowned instantly. Somehow beyond the wards knowledge Morgana saw the Nightwing from her nightmare flash through her mind. Why now? For the most part of the day her mind had been focused on the upcoming plague before her kingdom. Why had the protective beast from her nightmares shown its rear now?

Morgana released Merlin from her grip. "Are you okay my lady?" Merlin asked worried by her sudden changed reaction.

"Yes, sorry Merlin I am just tired from today." Morgana frowned but changed to false but reassuring smile "You must get some rest yourself. You've worked incredibly hard today." Morgana suggested leaving the chambers. Originally the ward only came to get a sleeping draft but the glimpse of the Nightwing turned her off. She felt guilty leaving Merlin clueless to her distress, but she just needed to leave indigently.

Merlin just watched Morgana exit his chambers closing the doors behind her. Merlin looked to the shoulder she toucher her hand on. Tapping the part Merlin couldn't help but smile. For the first time today, the secret outlaw felt less alone. A warmth of friendship healed a part of his aggravation in these unsettling times. Morgana's reassurance was a gift to him not the Bat Warlock.

Midnight

After her excursion with Merlin in his chambers. The ward returned to her room and went to sleep. The déjà vu of the Nightwing had unsettled the proud lady. Having one of the ladies in waiting Uther selected for his foster daughter dress her in the accustomed nightgown Morgana was used to. The ward went to her slumber hoping rest would ease her mental troubles.

"DONG! DONG!"

Morgana's eye lids flipped up hastily from the loud droning of the castle's church bells. An ill terror stabbed its way into her heart. The ward knew the only reason why the mighty bells would ring so deafening in the deeply night would only be due to one thing and one thing only.

"Invasion." Morgana gasped jumping out of her bed.

Merlin's chambers

The horrid bell toles had awoken Merlin from his much-needed slumber as well. The acting physician bounced off from the book piled floor he had been resting on. Merlin came closer to the small glass-stained window of his quarters. Only to find a unique but distasteful nuance to the evening night sky.

"The sky?" Merlin gawked in horror of the new occurrence. Merlin backed away from his window to get better view of the new ugliness before him. No long was the sky an decoration of abyssal black and twinkling twilight stars. Now the sky was a banshee green, with blood red flares flickering though the mutant clouds like water dripping into a pond. The flares themselves seemed to be shaped like farm scythes ripping through the bounds of reality.

Merlin didn't need to be a wise old sage to know this unnatural occurrence was linked to the plague. The mushy gothic green was the same shade as the infected blood the dead victims carried within in their rotted cells.

The shadowy heartbeat hammered on once more from the secret cupboard. Merlin eyes twitched to the locked away second personality which was hidden away. Merlin's knuckles tightened allowing the peer pressure to consume his ten fingers. The young outlaw took out the tiny bone thinned key from his undershirt and turned the hellish knob of his small storeroom.

Twisting the handle and hearing the gratifying sound of the last clutch click. The small door swayed casually open. Merlin eyed the demonic gear. If Merlin didn't know better, he could have sworn the suit had been sitting patiently, waiting for the right time for the wizard in hiding to unleash its wrath.

Merlin bit the lower ends of his lips. A hard red-hot pinch tugged at his heart. A drumming war beat glamoured down throughout his system. The bat mask peering down upon his very soul, making Merlin hunger for the revengeful thrill his second persona relished in.

Like a racing arrow shot from the deadliest crossbow. Merlin seized the skin of his second persona. Ready for the new battle of his old war.

The Council rooms

Arthur once again dressed up in his anonymously gifted blue armour. Surveyed around his father's war room. Uther had called to arms member of his privy council. Uther dressed in his old-styled armour while his fellow lords had done so the same. Maps, documents and little toy figures to represent soldiers placed on the grand table for Uther's potential and even intended battle strategies.

"It's not good enough!" Uther angry riled at one of the lords. No doubt giving the king an answer Uther loathed "This is an obvious attack of sorcery! This fucking bewitching sky is good enough cause to assume such a fact." Uther pointed angrily at the abridged night-time.

"But my lord, we still don't know how to fight the enemy. The plague was bad enough but this…this is something else together." A short, flattened lord tried to explain.

"I will not succumb." Uther growled "I will not let one sorcerer bend me!"

"One sorcerer?" Asked Sir Leon sating next to Arthur.

"Who else my lords." Uther declared "The Bat Warlock, I warned you he would do this. Now the coward has enacted his master plan. First with the plague now this spectral sky. The outlaw is finally making his move the destroy my kingdom and everyone us in it." Uther snarled in revulsion "I swear to everyone of you, my lords. As your king I will not allow this bastard usurper to have his triumph."

Arthur questionably lowered his eyes. A series of quizzing played through the prince's mind. True his farther was more than likely right this was the Bat Warlock doing. The reaper of Camelot had enough motive to take arms to the king and the rest of the kingdom; but the prince had still his doubts on the Bat Warlock being the initial culprit regardless how damming the probability could be.

Perhaps Arthur was just being fool hardy or perhaps the prince was still reeling from the take down of Luthor, where his fellow dark knight of steel had saved him and even calling out Luthor for what the tyrant truly was. Again, the prince maybe idiotic in his faith of the outlaw; Arthur was just judging the outcast by two occurrences alone. Two incidents which allowed two people to be alive here today.

A page like in the morning broke though the doors. Uther and the other council members eyes and features peeked from entry. The page was flabbergasted from the rush "Sire…. I…. augh…Sire you…." The page underapply tried to say. Desperate for a drink of water to regain his breath.

"Speak up!" Uther demanded venomously.

If it was just in the moment or if it came down to absolute will power alone Arthur didn't know but the page when the page finally delivered his message. It was one which filled the entire room with worst of concerns.

"Just look outside your grace." The page answered clearly. Simple words true, but enough to trigger a canter galloping of exits from the lords and the king from the floors of the council room.

The Battlements.

Uther and his congregation of warriors lined up on the balcony of the castle's battlements. The farther lord of Camelot got a better a look at the supposed threat his page had forewarned is privy council about. Uther eyes crossed unnaturally from the army which beheld his sight.

Scarecrows, an entire army of scarecrows where at the king's front door. Each one of this horrendous army looked more physically despicable then the last. From what Uther remembered during his annual congregations to the farming territories. The scarecrow figure would consist of a pillowed body filled with straw and worn-out cloths; the most usual design was a jumper and a farmer's hat.

These monsters had flowered the traditional design of the man-made bird slayers. Expect for one key difference. Flesh, many of these scarecrow soldiers looked like human being with different attachments sewed onto them. Their faces and mouths sewed deformably with halve a baggy mask criss crossed with the actual physical face. Straw stabbing out of their veins and skin, dead skin shedding off their natural body parts bleeding down onto the grounds. For the ones which had a good majority of their face still intact, their dead eyes spiralled uncontrollably with their sockets even going to the back of the heads. Scythes, bill hooks and pitch forks were the weapons.

Many of the lords backed away from the undead army. For undead they were. Despite their farm hand customization's Uther recognized these unholy soldiers. They were the previous victims who fell prey to the plague of fear. The king clawed down his teeth from his personal outrage. It wasn't enough magic was killing his people, now it saw fit to make personal solders of the citizens he swore to protect. "Dam their cursed practices." Uther mentally mumbled.

For the next fifteen minutes. Both sides were at a silent stale mate with one another. Neither doing nor acting out. Even Uther and Arthur weren't willing to make a move from the unexpected army. Sound for those fifteen minutes was no more than a luxury. A cat squelching as the feline jumped from a pile of bins causing the lid to make a loud sliding noise was the only calming echo on this midnight battlefield.

Finally, the passing silence ended with drum of a beat. The undead scarecrows stomped their various weaponized farming tools in a rhythm of emotion. Each strawed brigade became synchronized in their interpretation of war drumming. Banging and hitting the courtyard's grounds doing their best intimidate their living opponents with their frightening Corus.

To their respect their horrible melody was achieving its menacing purpose. Some of the lords particularly the youngest knights. While doing their best not show it started to feel nasty effect of the intimidating humping. Sweat pouring out of their arm hairs. Urine leaving their rectums stinking up their armour. Breathlessness developing in their throats.

While some of the living armed forces felt the mental grazing by the looming fear. Uther Pendragon would not succumb to this pathetic attempt to reduce his mighty court into walling children. "Get a hold of yourselves!" Uther venomously fumed. The king averted his vulture eyes towards the hollow army. An arrogant smirk played onto the kings' lips "Do you truly believe this vile pathetic attempt to usurp me will work? To seize my rightful throne for your feeble master?" The king spat.

Uther miffed triumphantly "I am King Uther of house Pendragon the first of my name! Cenred, Odin and the worthless population of your wretched kind. None of them stood a chance against me! None of them. Not one was worthy to face me, not one was worthy to be my doom! I have destroyed far worse than your measly rabble." Uther insulted pointing the tip of his blade damagingly at the strawed reaffirmation. "I hope your false leader is cowering amongst you. I have longed t to swipe the Bat Warlock's head off." Uther pompously finished off.

"Heheh." A child giggle echoed.

Arthur's brows furrowed. The giggle was of course out of place but that wasn't what the prince took issue with. The giggle was out of place for the Bat Warlock. In the few instances when the prince and outlaw exchanged words the exiled ghost's tone of voice came off as a tamed tempered hardness. No vocal cracks or vigorous nips strayed in the magical outlaws' vocals.

"Show yourself you gutless coward!" Uther having enough of this dalliance. The king would not be some boy toy to the vigilante's amusement. "Face a true leader like a man for once in your life."

As if it were the word of God. The king's threat had gotten Uther a reaction from the undead army. Within seconds the strawed brigade changed their formation of stance. No longer lining up in rows but now separating into two circled groups leaving the middle-selected path bare.

The Camelot army peered down from their battlements. Arthur especially, in the cold distance the prince could make out one small figure. A being who was half his physical. Almost… "childlike." Arthur shoddily realized.

The small figure wore a patched up knitted brown hood and cape, with various dark coloured different sized circles and squares sewed onto the hooded cape. The nightmare child's main bodily outfit consisted of what could be considered a ragdoll's look. She wore a white vest with black lines patched along random different points of the shirt, her trousers were the same deal. Greyish black colour with white sewing linings sprawled throughout. She wore no shoes her damaged skin rotted feet were bare for all to see.

The child clicked her deformed strawed fingers. Taking the indication, her dressed up zombified soldier threw the young leader a silvery sharpened scythe. Using the sticked out blade to lift her hood the face of the demonic child could be finally seen by all.

She possessed long silver hair, but it was how the hair looked physically which was the first alarming feature of the stitched-up spectre. Each lace and string of hair had been pinned onto her scalp. A quadrillion little needled balls were embroiled onto her hair like a doll. Her face shared the same similar disgusting appearance as her minions' facial features; but the differences could be seen. Regarding the leader's face, it had the same youthful demeanour of a six-year-olds but the skin her flesh was see through in the same way a jellyfish's head. Grey liquid shimmering and flushing across her underneath the see-through skin with red and green veins gesticulating in correspondence. Her lips painted a muddy black and her teeth missing and mangled almost glued onto her jaws.

"Haven's mercy." Arthur brayed. The young prince had seen his fair share of abnormal deities during his part taking in the king war against magic. The Lady Scarecrow before him and the rest of the conjugation was easily a dead ringer of the absolute worse the dark practices had to offer.

The lady Scarecrow surveyed the impressive courtyard of the kingdom. If Arthur didn't know better, he could have sworn the strawed reaper was trying to gain a resemblance of the chosen battlefield. The Lady Scarecrow was plotting but more over she was recalling but what exactly the prince had no idea.

Uther spat a tad of vile to the curved stone "Are you the malcontent who has taken arms against me?"

The Lady Scarecrow just giggled chicly once more.

"Answer your king!" Uther fumed being tired of the day's magical disobedience.

The Lady Scarecrow just laughed more hysterically. The laugh one would associate with an unplugged and unhinged jackal lantern. The living spectre needed to hold her own entrails from escaping her stomach as she bellowed further with her delighted madness.

Only seeing red the king hammered on his demand "ANSWER ME!" Uther quenched.

Despite her childish giggles escaping the Lady Scarecrow was able to regain some decorum. She smiled widely like a hunchbacked toad. "My dear Uther Pendragon." Her voice was ever so ghostly leaving traces of echo's whenever words left the spectre's wind pipes. "I am disappointed. Do you not recognize your most faithful companion?"

The troops turned to face their king is utter surprise. Did their powerful monarch know this creature in some way?

"Until this very night I never laid on eyes you before spectre." Uther insulted reeling from the mere suggestion this monster dare consider him a friend.

"Ohh but you do know me." The Lady Scarecrow bowed flipping her scythe playfully "I have been the one constant in your life. The very fear you used to annihilate your enemies, the fear you used to take over this kingdom. I am your real power Uther plain and simple. Now after all your joy rides, I finally can walk on this mortal realm."

The Lady Scarecrow caressed the face of one of her undead soldiers "Twenty years Uther, twenty years since the crown was placed on your forehead I have been growing and growing." The lady Scarecrow mused "Perhaps you will be interested to know how this fate befall you. You see my dear king when you supered the throne a curse was placed on the very crown you wear. By whom even I do not know but I can hazard a few guesses."

"Oan 'e smjunt dy't myn famylje stiel, oan' e tiran dy't myn neilittenskip stiel, oan 'e Pendragon dy't myn Reade Robin fermoarde. Ik swar dat de sykte fan eangst werom sil. Dejinge dy't jo lêste oer sil behannelje, sil berne wurde út it grutste fan jo wapens. Jo winsken, jo idealen, jo kâldens. Dyn eangst. Jo ryk sil baarne yn 'e strie fan it helfjoer krekt lykas de ûnnatuerlike heks dy't jo binne." Lady Scarecrow quoted the longed appointed curse "You have heard the words in the langue of the old religion. Allow me to translate in your native tongue. "To the criminal who stole my family, to the tyrant who stole my legacy, to the Pendragon who killed my Red Robin. I swear the illness of fear shall return on the 20th hallow day. The one who will deal you your final bout shall be born from the greatest of your weapons. Your desires, your ideals, your coldness. Your fear. Your empire will burn in the straws of hellfire just like the unnatural witch you burn at your glorious stakes."

"Do you understand now your grace." The last word from the sentence was spoken in the slyest and craftiest of tones. "I am your most perfected subjects. You created me, you groomed me. The enchanter preyed this day would come, preyed I would come to be. I am the better, the stronger, the truer version of you. I am the greater you Uther Pendragon."

The courtyard remained silent. No one daring to say a word to the king. The cold wind blowing against the Pendragon flag. Neither foe not knowing who was willing the duel of nature. The blistering wind or the flags fierce sturdiness.

Arthur despite the prince's hard composure the son of Uther felt an uncomfortably by the Lady Scarecrow's confession. "Lies of course." The blue armoured prince concluded. "Unfortunately lies against my farther." It was not every day the accuser would be labelled the accused. Arthur was no stranger to his father's rage. This twilight of midnights would be one of the few times Uther the man Arthur would often fawn for approval. Now lost the luxury of a definite stand and like his son before him was laid down with a personal test to prove he was worthy of the crown before him. This act of slander however false or even true was a dagger Uther needed to find a way to avoid or worse be stabbed by. The action his farther would take next would determine the fates and even legacy of Camelot.

The loyal servants of the king court kept their sights inflexibly focused on their royal paster. Uther simply removed his crown with his two mortal hands. The king viewed the small golden encircled item in his grips. Never experiencing a form of feeling. The conqueror only started at his betokened gain from twenty years ago.

Uther placed the crown in one hand. Holding his personal ring of power by the grip shoving the bejewelled item like a lance. "I am the king of Camelot. I am this kingdom's rightful guardian. I do not care if you were born from me. I disown you; I disown every aspect of you abomination. I will not be swayed by any enemy even myself. You dared to use my fear against me. I assure both you and your enchanter better foes have attempted such spiteful tactics."

Uther returned the mighty crown on his glowed head. "You may try to take my life, but I will not allow you to take down my valour. Twenty years ago, I swore to my dyeing breath I would protect this fair land from the clutches of sorcery. Even if you are a witch born from my innards you are no exception to my oath."

Uther valiantly drew out his slender sword from his oaked sheath. "You will be crushed by my hand, and I will personally see it every trace of you will be an ash to the wind!" Uther cautioned his nightmarish other half. "I will send you to meet your enchanter in the next life. You will have the personal honour of informing the person in the twenty years of their just death. They never succeed in their pathetic vendetta."

Lady Scarecrow smirched "Is this your final answer your grace?"

"Do I even need to contemplate further on a response?" Uther rebuked annoyingly but definitely.

"Very well my dear king." Lady Scarecrow finalized. The feared side of Uther banged her scythe "Now I call upon my army of the frightfully sickened." A toxic energiser of green fire lashed out of her scythe engulfing the sky's above! The horrid flames reformed into a humanoid face dripping and decaying away gruesomely into a morbid skull.

The king and his entourage held up their shields against the imminent blast from ugly fiery bombshell. Uther would not falter; the king didn't care the cursed comment would be the cause of his death. Uther would not be remembered as the king who bent to the whims of magic. Not know or ever!

The only sadness of his impending deathly fate the monarch was the fates of his son and ward. Two days ago, Uther was berated Arthur on his defence of a servant and his inability to capture the Bat Warlock; but here he was standing by his father's fate like a true prince…. like a true king in his mighty blued armour. The other child which conversed the king; s mind was Morgana. The ward and the king had a tubulous relationship since her fostering. Often arguing, disagreeing about the fares of magic and state. How Uther would miss those vocal skirmishes, the king would never admit it, but they were one of the traits Uther loved about his ward. "I just wished I had not been so gutless. I wish I had been brave strong enough to tell her…. who she really was to me."

A small tear left the king's eye. Seeing the ten yerd old girl enter his court, horse riding with her through the various beautiful meadows and forests of their kingdom. When she would come into the grand feats in one of her beautiful dress's. How the three family members would joke and laugh around the dinner table in merriment. "I am so sorry. I am sorry I brought this unfairness upon the two of you. My precious jewels. Arthur, Morgana I know I never said it enough but you two were the most precious things to ever grace my life."

Lady Scarecrow smiled insanely. Raising her tipped finger and pointed the fleshless pinkie at her preyed victims. No words escaped her, the spectre of Uther Pendragon would not a grant her other half the satisfaction. On command the fiery rotted skull launched at the suspecting targets.

Each last man standing ready to feel the impact of their painful sorrowful ends. It would not be long now before they would burnt ashes on Camelot's battlements. Some of whom already began a mental countdown.

"Three" The skull sniggered delightfully evilly in its kamikaze mission.

"Two." Some of the younger troops while holding their shields. Allowed aggrieved tears pour down their cheeks.

"One" One last second before the end.

"Zero…...zero…. zero!" Nothing had happened. The men didn't feel the burning physical sensation or any form of heat and warmth.

The soldiers lowered their shields to see why their doom had delayed their presumed execution. Their answer would come in a manor none were expecting. At the tipping distance between the skull and the battlements. The green fiery skull had been stopped in its tracks by a fellow flame filled banshee.

With a swoop of God like speed. A dark colossus fiery bat themed dragon pounced at its foe. The dark flamed Nightwing sliced and chewed down onto the skull. Despite being an amalgamation of magic, the skull screeched in horrendous pain ironically the same pain it intended for its victims.

Finally, the demonic skull evaporated from one final clawing. With its jaded spiritual rival taken care off the Night wing set its sights at Lady Scarecrow and her army of the strawed undead. Roaring hauntingly the Night wing crashed down onto both her and the hollowed army. Exploding itself in an impressive engulfment of an oceanic avalanche of shadowy flames.

With the dark embers drying up from the ground. The Lady Scarecrow and her unholy brigade remained unharmed by the explosion. The villainess didn't let up her commanding composure. Rather amused by the new player in her little game.

"I wondered when you would be joining our little party…...outlaw."

The Bat Warlock was crouched subtlety on the dying ambered grounds. Being the difference between the hellish army and the keepers of the Camelot fortress. The exiled ghost raised himself modestly to a true defender's stance. "I am here for these people's protection, not your twisted pettiness." The Bat Warlock slighted back.

"Why?" The Lady Scarecrow half heartly questioned "Uther hates you, the prince views you as a rival. The very people you protect fear you. Why bother to defend those who utterly despise you?"

The Bat Warlock took withdrew his sword from his backed scabbard "I should have known someone like you wouldn't understand." The Bat Warlock pushed the tilt of his blade towards his forehead, feeling the cold steel crossfade with his concealed skin "I was not born to be rewarded, apricated or even loved."

Just like that the Bat Warlock swayed his sword energetically "I was born to do the right thing!"

The Bat Warlock charged ferociously at Lady Scarecrow. His sword and her scythe locking in a battle of strength. From the Bat Warlock behind one of strawed minions tried to stab him the back by a pitchfork. Only for the Bat Warlock to push Lady Scarecrow away from his person and thump the dead soldier's wrist.

The other strawed subordinates began to gang up and try to take shots at the Bat Warlock. The outlaw may have been a one maned army in a few cases but here the exiled ghost was being outmanned very quickly. While he was keeping up a good defensive front and countering any swipe or slash from the farm tools. It would not be long before the Bat Warlock would fall.

A fact the prince summarized easily. Arthur had been in enough battles to know how a full-frontal tide could destroy one person however powerful they were. Not to mention the prince had a personal debt he owed his rival.

"Men!" The prince boomed with a fury of commandments "Get down there now and help him!"

"Arthur!" Uther flabbergasted beyond belief "You wish us to aid this sorcerer? He's a dam outlaw!""

"This man saved our lives farther!" Arthur defended.

"I will not be on the same side as one of that kind Arthur!" Uther shunned down the measly fact down to his son.

"Then the kingdom will fall by your hand." Arthur talked back surprising his farther by his honest gumption "I will not. Those who want to see another tomorrow follow me!" Arthur preached raising his sword in masterful pride.

The prince gazed towards his farther the king in a bittered tone. "Those who wish to stay then do so. This battlefield has no place for the broken." Making Uther raise his eyes in a disheartened shock. Did his son really see him in this way?

Arthur shot his way to the nearest door to join the Bat Warlock on the battlefield. His red cape flipping around like a bleeding scab. It was no surprise the men joined the prince in his allied plight. The bigger surprise was that it had been unanimous. Every fighting man had left the battlements to join the two dark knights of steel.

All expect the king. Uther was now all alone on his vulture's perch. Pondering his choices, keep to his philosophy and refuse assistance or an assist to a wanted sorcerer? Or put his pride and prejudices aside and help his son and those who took up arms in loyal service to him to defend Camelot.

"My choice couldn't be simpler." The king left the battlements with his sharpen blade in hand.

Camelot courtyards

The Bat Warlock was doing his utmost to keep the strawed minions away. Both winged blade and knife in hand. The magical vigilante had pressed on with his one maned assault. Despite the fruitlessness of his current predicament the Bat Warlock would not allow any of these undead ghouls near the castle. Regardless of how draining the battle was downing him.

A whack came about from the back of his head. Making the Bat Warlock wallow down from the rippling head pain. One of the minions used a hook to do the harmful deed. Another minion kicked the Bat Warlock in his stomach making the outlaw fall to his front.

The strawed undead peered down on their new victim hungrily. Like rats finding a new tasty morsel. They had the outlaw right where they wanted him. This midnight the Bat Warlock would become a new member of their ranks for their beloved mistress.

Two of the strawed militants held the weakened protector by his legs and hands. Keeping his belly in place. Swinging one of the hooks for the on-point stab. The Bat Warlock could only tiredly view is forthcoming death.

"Gaius." The Bat Warlock whimpered out in a stoical fashion. He had failed him, he failed Camelot. "I'm so sorry…I couldn't…. I couldn't do right by you."

Regardless of if the zombie could understand the final words of its victim was debatable. One thing which was assured the creature didn't care either way. Raising its rusted out fork the mangled specimen was ready for the final strike.

Only for a bombardment of arrows to stab the creature's chest stopping the predator in its tracks. The Bat Warlock daylily watched his to be murderer back away from his person. The next few seconds were a whirl wind of change for the Bat Warlock battle situation. Instead of being gunned down by the farming equipment the two demonic scarecrows which had been pinning down were battered away by two Camelot knights. Freeing the outlaw from his hold.

Sir Leon and a couple Camelot troopers punched and jilted back their infected adversaries causing their opponents to sliver away back to their brainwashing queen. Once behind their den mother the unholy creatures hissed nastily at their new unwanted preventors.

"Fall in!" Arthur called out. On command the prince's troops circled around the Bat Warlock protectively. Mighty shields raised and steeled swords out with Arthur at the head of this testudo formation. The prince could not help but smile proudly. Admiring the brave men and even boys by his side. Each one ready to defend their kingdom. Even with these dire circumstances the prince couldn't help but a feel a tad of enthusiasm in the coming battle. Seeing his reflection mirrored from his swords a blade. The old family motto found itself dyeing to be unleashed from his mouth.

With one big gulp Arthur raised his sword bravely "FOR THE LOVE OF CAMELOT!" Arthur proudly and confidently impoldered with his face undisturbed by the fierceness of his mighty battle cry.

"FOR THE LOVE OF CAMELOT!" Sir Leon and the rest of the knights courageously followed in the noble chant.

"FOR THE LOVE OF CAMELOT!" Arthur turned to see who individually cried out the battle cry. To the prince's astonishment the person in question was none other than his own farther. The king stood on the castle stairs. Weapon readied but keeping an upper distance from the army to peer down on his subordinates as was tradition for a king (or traditional for Uther at least.) No words were exchanged between the farther and son. None the less the prince couldn't help but be gratified his farther would be by his side.

The prince pushed away a few solders in order to come into the view site of the fallen outlaw. The Bat Warlock even with his face covered eyed the prince suspiciously with his soulless lenses. If this was ever time for his rival to do him in now was Arthur's chance.

Instead, however Arthur offered his fellow Dark Knight of steel his hand. No emotion expressed from the heir's features. No words needed to be said. Just a mental transference of respect and a mutual understanding the prince wished to help his rival up. That the prince needed his rival's aid to win this war of midnights.

The Bat Warlock boldly took the arm of the promised king. With a good nudge Arthur helped the exiled ghost back to his feet. The Bat Warlock dusted himself, the next surprise for the outlaw was Sir Leon and another noble lord handing back the Bat Warlock's sword and knife back. As the outlaw reigned his weaponry from the two protectors.

Viewing the prince, Sir Leon and the rest of the knights. Each man seemed to view now at least the Bat Warlock with a tiny concordant of respect. For tonight, in this moment the Bat Warlock was one of them. Not a criminal on the run but rather a fellow guardian of Camelot.

Even with this acknowledgement being temporary. Merlin felt a gladness surge through his heart. Seconds before Gaius death the boy had been miserly drinking his sorrows in a cup of whine due to the fact, he would never be anything more than this kingdom's play monkey. Now this kingdom took the time to see him as something more. To see him as an equal even for a short time. Was the best reward the Bat Warlock could have asked for.

The Lady Scarecrow didn't share the sentiments of the unity. Rather her childness had been tempered down and now the spectre only felt boredom. Her game had been too prolonged to enjoy anymore. "These party poopers aren't worth the assimilation. Just dispose of them all." She ordered.

On que the army of tragedy raised their deadly arms at their living oppressors. In turn the prince, the king, the exiled ghost and rest of the knights of Camelot prepared for what could be the final battle of their life's. Similar to the western tales with two duelled fighters confronting each other at a passing venue. both sidle armies were waiting to see who would attack first. Who would be daring enough to begin the end of the midnight war.

The would be taken up for the villainous Lady Scarrow "ATTACK!" She ghastly avowed.

"CHARGE!" Prince Arthur blazingly shouted with his face fixing into the same features of a lion as he made the order.

The Bat Warlock, the prince and the rest of the living army made their fated march directly at the strawed army who from the opposite side of their field made their damming stride towards their breathing enemies. Even with the rush of ad reline overwhelming each warrior's vein. A snow white of slow silence confronted the knights of breath. As if an unknown guiding light had given them a few seconds of peace before their showdown. Despite the enemy being a mere feet away.

The slow silence would come to erupt end as Arthur drew blades with one of the assimilated minions. Now the time of contemplation was over. The chaos of battle would be the only solace these men could take now.

The Midnight War

The instance the prince's blade connected to the bill hook of the undead scarecrow solider. Each solider of both sides clashed with one another in a dirty sequenced brawl. With each combatant coming too with their unperceived opponent a quake of heavy dirt sprawled into the air around them.

Sir Leon raved as he swung his sword madly swatting the undead opposition away from his corner even punching one squarely on the patched face. Prince Arthur was backed into an edge of the square but was not relenting. The king to be viscously skewed and shaved the three scarecrows in halve both sideways and middle ways.

The younger knights were doing their best to keep a stand. The recruits with swords like the prince and the head knight were dead locked in sword combat taking their personal battles on both the main ground and the castle staircase while the older knights with archers took places on the knight and statue. Taking aims at their undead enemies from their make shifted tan tabled battle point landing a good number of blows by their pointed shots.

Uther roared madly with his pendragon's might. Hatching away the deedless strawed one effortlessly slashing their heads off with one swing of his blade. He was the man who made sorcery crumble down to his feet. In this battle he would remind the bitch who claimed to be his other halve of this accomplishment. The king glared down at the decapitated bodies before.

The king clenched his teeth dismayingly. The strawed minion headless body slowly rose from its previously fallen position. Uther needed to keep his lunch down; once he examined the sliced neck stump the king could see the accursed troopers' insides were disgusting mash up of both green infected blood and urine smelling farm straw.

Despite the sickly feeling the king felt from the sight. It did not stop the beheaded acolyte in reattaching its severed head back onto its mainlined body. Uther could even see the black sewed threads reassembling the served headily parts.

The king recompressed the retentive scene and outlined the rest of the hollowed battlefield. The king was not the only member of the living army to be at odds with a re constructable foe. Despite the strong majestic performance from his son and the rest of his loyal knights. It was ultimately for nought. No matter how many shots and slices each brave administered the strawed army would find a new a way to come back perfectly on top unharmed and ready to retaliate back.

Uther should have suspected such an outcome. "Being undead" after all. What was worse the king started to see some of his warriors beginning to dither. Uther grunted at the cheating structure of this dark magic. The unholy would be able to keep on going while the breathing army would become tired out from the constant repetition of their unforgiving opponent's inability to stay down. While no one from the king's side had been slayed yet the king did take knowledgeable stock of the facts the saddle's arrows were becoming dimensioning and the swords were becoming quickly blunted from their constant use.

Uther heard the chilling cries of his revied adversary. Turning his focus back onto the challengers before him. The king once again readied himself for another futile round with his sin borne attackers.

Uther slowly feeling the sleep deprivation beginning to claim his mind. The king slapped his own face to keep awake. Uther was about to forgo another series of trivial attacks only for one of the silver chained guards to beat him to the punch. The raven-haired ponytailed Valkyrie harped out protectively. Mutilating the unholy brethren. Using the same furious tactical sword skills Uther had just used himself.

Uther brushed the sweat away from his steamed sprayed eyes in order to get a better visual fixture on his unforeseen guardian. Once his eyesight was cleared. The king saw a face he most certainly did not want anywhere near this terrorful battle zone but so dammingly longed to see again.

"Morgana!" Uther chokingly wheezed out.

The ward turned to face her foster father with an edged strife. Morgana's hair was tied in a bridled ponytail. In terms of armour meant the ward did not bear any heavy attachments of amour such as the faulds or the plackarts like her fellow allies were equipped with. Rather she bore a smooth silked variation of chain mail, with a silver cuisse around her waist with two lower silver vambraces; attached on to each hand. Lastly a steeled rondel covering breasts with sollerets protecting her feet with black leathered leggings.

Uther had to rub his eyes once more from the sheer disbelieve "Morgana…. what…...what are on earth are you doing here!" Uther heatedly confronted forgetting undeadly threat surrounding him and instead becoming more focused on the protection of his beloved but foolish ward.

Morgana testily brandished her sword from her sides. Adamant to maintain her strong grip on the sharp weapon "I was not going to hide away in the castle while you and Arthur fought for your lives. For all our lives!" The ward fiercely sermonized.

Uther a grievingly pushed his way to be right in spitting distance of Morgana. "You are to return to the castle now!" Uther commanded protectively.

"No!" Morgana piped back slashing down another scarecrowed solider.

Uther too had to fight back the reived troopers with his blade. Despite their battle restarting the king was not going to let up from his demands "This is not a debate Morgana; I will not have you here." Uther barked kicking a hole squarely into the chest of an undead scarecrow "This is no place for a woman."

Morgana steamy huffed "I am no mere woman Uther; I am the daughter of Gorlois Le Fay. I am the ward to the King of Camelot!" Morgana snapped angrily back cutting half the left arm of one scarecrow and the right leg of another one at the same time. "I will not scurry away back in my chambers not when I can help." Morgan coolly answered.

Uther swiped another undead target within his fighting patch. Cleaning his blade from the strawed mucus on his leggings "This not your burden, as king I alone must…."

"Get over yourself!" Morgana venomously yelled back at her king. The wards affronted backchat had been so high pitched and outraged even Uther a man who many people speculated had an ore made skeleton was quenched by his wards silencing. If it were anyone else dared to talk back to Uther in such a manor the king would have sliced out their tongues with boiling sheers by his own bare hands without question, but for Morgana in this instance Uther didn't feel any truce malice from this outburst but rather a sense of grave concern biting down onto his heart.

Morgana wearily faced her guardian. The mask of determined exterior the Valkyrie of Camelot would often wear in her battles of words and prowess. Skimmed down from her face leaving the ward with the glumness of a lost pup.

Seeing the sorrow across her face, Uther found himself franticly wanting to hug the girl he viewed as his daughter. The only reason the king didn't act on this platonic impulse was how his ward was eyeing him. The sad starkness Morgana was expressing felt like an unspoken warning towards the king. Just a girl wanting to say her peace to a man she viewed as a secondary farther.

"You always act like a statue you know that?" Morgana breathed out intensely "Ever since the day I met you, you have been nothing but cold. Yes, there have been some truly treasury moments of warmth from you." Morgana smiled statedly only for the faint smile to drift away "But that is the Uther I had the luxury to be around. Anyone else gets a cold shoulder even your own son." Morgana bit out bitterly.

Uther grimaced down shamefully. The king was more than aware of the treatment his ward was referring to. It was no secret Uther had been treated Arthur more like a servant rather than his son in the recent days, if not all the boy's life.

Morgana eased her tigress features. "I don't understand you Uther. You keep claiming you are the first true king of Camelot. The one who rose it from the ashes of decay and madness." Morgana stabbed her sword into the dirt as she mockingly repeated one her foster father's many self-centred speeches.

"So far as king all I have seen you do is be hard and cruel." Morgana admitted. Even though it was a small admission Uther felt those simple words to be a each a sting to his soul. While it was true, he and Morgana had a few disagreements on his method of ruling but never as forth right like this.

"You see enemies wherever you turn, you see rivals in every corner. You see rebels and abominations in a magic." The last one Morgana stated with every mustered bitterness she had within in her. Once the vile had left her cords she eyed wearily her guardian forcing the king to follow her gaze to the various battle taking place.

More specifically the Bat Warlock. Using his magic and weapons to swat and slice down a handful of enemies in an ear-piercing speed, while at the time protecting fallen two Camelot knights. Both of whom seemed grateful for his wizardry aid as they took his hand to get back up. Uther could see the three noticed defenders marched to another group of enemies.

"The Bat Warlock is one of the best examples of your blindness." Morgana berated coldly "Since he emerged into this kingdom all he has done is proof why you can be so incredibly wrong about what makes a suitable human being. It doesn't matter what linage you were born from; it doesn't matter if you are a high lord or a pig farmer. It doesn't matter if you were hand chosen by God or even by the devil himself. Blood types, zodiac birthdays all of it is meaningless." Morgana surmised at a rasher speed she was not normally accustomed too.

"What makes a good a person is a person who doesn't want to be defined by such meaningless. It's someone who is willing to get up and be better. Who gets beaten down time and time again by people like you and still wants to do the right thing regardless of how badly they are fucked over for it. I know of this evidence because…...you were the one who taught me." Morgana confessed a bittersweet eclipsed tone.

"What?" The king unsurely asked his ward. The great titan of Albion in these few moments of this verbal conversation now felt more like a small lost boy. Lost in an accident, not knowing how to break free from this mental stranding.

Morgana felt a few hollowed tears fell down her face. "You…...you…. you were one of my heroes." Morgana admitted hoarsely "Throughout all these acts. Throughout all your tyranny. I still remember the man you used to be. I don't fully know why you rebelled against the last magic king. It could have been propaganda or perhaps the man truly was a monster as you have preached. One thing I did remember you were a knight. No different from the ones who have joined the court and army."

"Right or wrong you were someone who felt Camelot was in danger and wanted to save it. To protect it from those who wished it wrong. I can assure there were times I hated you for your decision that day. If you hadn't rebelled people I loved! Wouldn't have died in due to your choice that day. Gaius stabbed by a mother you wronged; Gwen almost raped by the lower towners you refused to help…...my farther."

Hearing that last word. Uther could fee a cold freeze sweep through his heart. Making the king limp from the mental coldness.

"Believe it or not. That's what you and your professed outlaw have in common. Two men no one expected anything from. Deciding one day to act on their principles for the good of their fellow man. Not allowing what defined them to hold them back but rather using it to push them feet's they never thought they would achieve. I respected you for that. I loved you for it. You might be King Uther the first of Camelot but to me you're the knight my farther pledged his loyalty too. You're the knight he believed in…...that is why I never ever want to hate you. By hating you by acting against you regardless of how much I despise your choices. By being against you. I go against what my father died for, and I can never do that. I pray I never do…."

Morgana was stopped in her vocalized tracks by an immediate hug. Like a red flash Uther had grasped his foster daughter in a desperate bear hug. The king hand gripping tightly but gently Morgana's raven hair. Almost terrified to let go, feeling the entire world would drop from his feet below if he dared too.

Morgana herself felt benumbed emotionally by this act. Sure, Uther and herself had exchanged a formal hug now and then but never like this. Even know Morgana could hear the king's heartbeat rapidly as Uther's chest vibrated onto her owns.

After the unsured time met its end. The surprised gestured king finally spoke "The kingdom never defined me. You, Arthur, Igraine …. Gaius and your farther. You were the ones who always defined me." Uther released his ward to eye her holding her shoulders "You are the treasures I have always tried to protect. Loosing your farther and even Gaius. They were wounds I doubt will ever leave me my side. Loosing Arthur's mother that was a nightmare I still beg to awake from."

"I can't lose you two now. Both of you are the last strands, the last reasons I must keep alive, to keep holding onto my sanity. It is the very reason I must carry the burden of being this realm's king. It is a reminder of what I cannot possibly afford to lose."

Morgana stared at her guardian. She herself now feeling the degradation of being the lost child as Uther currently was. He cared about her, he cared about Arthur, he even seemed to care about Gaius. The king's speech at the late physician's funeral was not just a way to boost support for his campaign against magic. The man truly had been aggrieved to his former servant's death. Now Uther in these few short seconds within one of the most chaotic battles Camelot was still facing, had just shown the most human side to his character. Which even Morgana throughout all her memories could not recall.

Morgana touched her guardian's face. Swaying out her fingers to gently take hold of the king's cheek. For the first time in what felt like a long time, Morgana found a genuine smile on her face. A motherly smile that drew the two of them together in a parental bond. "I understand what you have explained to me, why you must do what you need to do. I just wish you understood you don't need to carry this burden alone. You don't need it to be part of your definition. Uther, you could be one of the most amazing kings who lived in Camelot, in Albion in fact. I just wish you understood you don't need this fear and anger to do so. You just needed to…."

"Oh, what a touching scene." A shrilled malicious voice beckoned interrupting the ward's last words. "Almost makes me wish I was still apart of the old bastard." Lady Scarecrow mocked vigorously.

Uther took Morgana into a protective embrace pointing his sword threateningly at the creature "Keep away form us."

Lady Scarecrow smugly smirked at her other half "OH now he talks. Hehe we were always one for the high speeches weren't we Uther?"

"Silence!" Uther demanded viciously "I do not know if your claims about your existence and my part in its contribution are true or a detracted lie. Regardless I do not care what relation we have. If you are truly a part of me, I can assure you that you are the weakest part. The part I sculpt out the moment I drew the blade on your masters. You are not me; you are not the definition of me."

Uther turned to view his beloved ward once again "She is what defines me, my son I what defines me. The people I love are the ones who define me." Uther returned to view Lady Scarecrow gazing down the monstrous madam dangerously "You are a just a cancer to me. The only good thing this curse has done for me is that it has allowed me to finally route you out and finish you."

Lady Scarecrow at first didn't do anything. Not one reaction to what had previously transpired. Her sewed up jaw formed into a twisted smile "Well my good king. If your loved ones are truly what makes you then perhaps taking them away is what shall break you. Nim har fan him ôf!" Lady Scarrow chanted masterfully raising her scythe to prove this point.

Uther and Morgana were instantly forced off each other. The king falling off onto the stoned ground and Morgana frozen in her place by the dark spell.

"NO!" Uther gasped facing his other half "Don't you dare harm her! It me you want I will…"

"oh sjit" Lady Scarecrow casted forcing Uther's mouth to clamp up. No matter what the king did, Uther was unable to open his mouth. The evil charm had truly shut him up. Lady Scarecrow returned her demonic attentions back at Morgana "Such a pretty girl." Lady Scarecrow casually mentioned. "I don't like pretty girls. I think a makeover is due my lady. Being a member of my undead army should do the trick."

Morgana widdled and waddled but no matter what she did the magic kept her in place unable to escape the monster's projection. Lady Scarecrow readied her weapon "Goodbye my dear, don't threat I truly believe you will be better off in my family." Lady Scarecrow maddingly grinned preparing for her deadly strike. "I think I will start with your hair. I don't like hair."

Giving a few swings of her famer-based weapon. Lady Scarecrow rampaged gingerly at the ward. Morgana found it impossible to blink, Uther could only watch in horror and the Lady Scarecrow was having presumably the time of her life.

Yet before the uncaring bill hook even came to close to Morgana. The Bat Warlock using one of his grappling hooks swung his feet bouncing Lady Scarecrow away as he kicked her straight on the chest. His long spiked black coat flourished tremendously from the impact. Making it look like the outlaw for a moment had genuine bat wings as the lower ends coat widened spiritually.

In the aftermath following the Bat Warlock kicking. Lady Scarecrow's entire figure spirally flew out in the air. Hitting bunch of wine barrels one of the porters had yet to place within the castle royal cellars. The impact brought on by the demonic witch shattered one of the red wined barrels allowing the crimson liquor to drown down her body, while the remaining barrels casually rolled down the highway street.

With her lost of focus. Both Morgana and Uther were freed from their hexed solidary. Morgana fell onto the ground, feeling the shuddered weakness in her legs brought on by her cursed standing. Once she laid on the ground a great relief came over her breaches, easily soothing her enamoured tensions.

Uther's paralyzed hexing too had been diminished. The king regained the feeling back into both sides of his jaws. Morgana's foster farther gently rounded his face with a few mouthful movements in order to better regain the feeling back into his facial parts. After a few short moments of re-establishing his form, Uther swiftly rolled over to his wards side embracing her protectively.

Lastly the Bat Warlock. Once the outlaw released his grappled hook, and his coat masterfully shimmered down. The exiled ghost now firmly having both his feet on the ground below; drew out his bat winged blade from his backed scabbard. Then a shiny greyed item caught the Bat Warlock's attention. Morgana's blade, still stabbed on the courtyards stoned slabs.

The Bat Warlock reached out his free hand vigorously not allowing any distraction to stall him within this instant "dod ataf fy chwaer" The outlaw commanded, with the spell uttered Morgana's Valkyries blade unleashed itself speedily from its entrapment and zipped gracefully into the Bat Warlock's unarmed last hand.

Now having both steeled blades in hand. One born from a mystical ritual, and another born from a lady's affection now were joined together in the defence of Camelot. Feeling the surge of unionization. The Bat Warlock swirled both swords from his sides before he furiously struck them together in a savagery X pose, returning both his and hers weapons to the sides of his upper body. The Bat Warlock was now finally prepared for his final challenge in this hallowed war.

A pierced creaking sound echoed from the drawn downed wine barrels. An itching annoyance hissed whisperingly around the broken and tattered stickly remains. The Bat Warlock didn't lose sight of his selected foe, the outlaw either it be using his mystical powers to enhance his senses or just relying on the uses of his natural sight, the Bat Warlock would not in anyway allow his foe to evade him. Not until he gave the demoness a final slashing.

A rumble shivered the barrelled remains. With a verso tendered slowness, the Lady Scarecrow pushed away the wine filled debris. Carefully using her sharped grazed scythe like a steadied crutch picked herself up.

The Bat Warlock didn't finch or show any other reaction to the revied display before him. Maintaining the cold calculated exterior of his masked persona as the undead queen finally rose from the destroyed juices. Lady Scarecrow bleached out a ginormous hyena rebuke of pleasure, as the red wine dripped out of her masked infused face. The pot liquor stains pouring down her leather sewed skin like ruby blood.

Lady Scarecrow licked a small sum of the draining wine from the side of her strawed gums. "Hammam. "She moaned seductively. "You really know how to be a bugger at my side don't you? Abomination?" She friskily ridiculed.

"I don't think you're in a position to use that word." The Bat Warlock shot back peacefully hardening his glare as he did so.

"No perhaps not." Lady Scarecrow agreed. Clicking her head back into her paper bagged neck socket. "Still it doesn't detour from the fact were both monsters of Camelot. We both were born from Uther's persecution, from the rejection of the light. We need the darkness not just as our weapons but as our blankets to hide away from their blindfolded eyes. Its our drugs, our wine I guess." She nastily joked taking another sip from her intoxicated wounds.

"And hear you are now." Like a show woman she glamoured her claws to show off Merlin like a circus show attraction "Another appointed self-righteous bastard. My god your sanctimonious, trying to convince these apes magic can be a force for good. That sorcerers and hags are a part natural circle of life? Just like they are?" The Lady Scarecrow effigy pointed her weaponized bill hook at the knight of Camelot.

"I know Uther, I know Arthur. Morgana, Geraint, Cador, Vidor, Leon all of them. You truly think winning this battle will change anything? Do you think it will change how they will see you? I can assure you it won't. Once this little playtime of mine is over, they will go back to hunting you, to abhorring you. You may wear the robes of a bat, but they will only detest you as a rat." The uncompleted demoness smugly admonished "So tell me, my dear fellow freak of nature. How does it feel to know everything you have done, everything you will keep on doing? Will always be for nothing."

The exiled ghost didn't move or change his steeled exterior. Not even rubbing his fingers of the blade's hilts. No sense of anxiety or any other questionable nervousness left his being. Even with the screams of his allies the Bat Warlock still did not stagger or budge. Only concentrating on the answer to his foes question.

"I don't care."

For the first time since the evening Lady Scarecrow lost her jubilant composure. Now replaced with an equanimity of hindrance and a tad of fright "Wha…what." She stammered.

"I don't care." The outlaw repeated more fourthly "I don't care what they think of me, I don't care if I am to be rewarded by punishment. I told you this before I do this because it's the right thing. I have the means to make at least one person's life a little easier than that is by far the best payment I could ask for. It's not about showing up those who have wronged me, it's about making sure they aren't enslaved by the nightmares which created me and you."

The Bat Warlock looked down onto his sashed belt to get a better look at his hidden small knife. The exiled ghost felt grilling sense of regret tingle up and down his spine "If I understood this lesson before, he would…...he would…. he would still be here." The Bat Warlock gut wretched out his windpipes.

Turning his predatory gaze back towards his rival of terror the vigilante continued his intended rejection of the demoness's ideals "I don't care. I need to not care, about the slights, the posters or even their desire to kill me. If I allow it to get to me if I let it consume me. It will just make me another you and Albion has enough people like that lingering around. The ones who will be only remembered for how pathetic they were."

Lady Scarecrow tightened her hold of her scythe. Letting the zombified gelatin float out of her manikin claws. No more giggles, no more smirks no more jokes brought on by her sadistic sense of humor. "Well then, my dear sir. If you truly do not care what fate awaits you. Then perhaps I should comply more to your personal wishes… BY RIPPING YOU TO SHREADS!"

With an old hag harped outcry. The demoness charged at the Bat Warlock with an unbridled fury, fully dictating her actions. Lowering down her deadly scythe from the middled high top of her arms to strike vastly down upon her defiant victim. The Bat Warlock retaliated by crossing his two swords into a X blocking the bill hook from reaching his figure.

The three weapons jammed with one another and their two welders unflinching in their very literal face off. If it were not for their weapons being in the way, both the demons of Camelot would be right up front with one another. Smokey heat began to boil off their weaponry, their solidified steel reddened from the violent tension as their sharpened knife edged blades started to boil even bubble.

Nether demon willing to lose their killing edged tools broke abruptly apart allowing the swords and scythe to cool down instantly from the release. Bat Warlock positioned his two swords to his sides restructuring his body in a T shape with duo blades dangling from his hands "anak nung klaycha phleung mme o tla fetoha leqhoa" the bat winged blade lit up in prosperous fire while Morgana's blade cocooned in bulky ice.

Having the natures of yin and yang at his current beckoning. Using great agility Merlin whooshed the environmental enchanted blades in a joint cyclone. From these empowered twisters the Bat Warlock shot out bombardments of icy and fiery blats each aimed at Lady Scarecrow.

Seeing the maddening enchanted projectiles heading her way Lady Scarecrow spared no time in making her defensive counterattack "Amri zangu kwa wafu, zinipe ulinzi wa kumuua adui yangu!" She thrusted the bottom ended stick of her scythe down onto the granite brick worked floors. A large noticeable crack gapped out from the grounds. After the deed was committed thousands upon thousands of ghostly apparitions splashed out venomously from the devil made crack.

The spiritually plunderers came in different forms. Nuns holding onto their bibles humbly, soldiers riding on their horses galivanting their lances in victory and children bring onto their sweets. Merlin could make out some of the different deities' occupations but with the considerate amount it would take five lifetimes to single each of spectral reinforcements identities. One thing the Bat Warlock did make out about his new challengers were the skeletal features each whitely spirit deviously maintained.

Charcoaled embers left Lady Scarecrow's patched up mouth as she ordered the ambushed assault. The banshees did as they were commanded by their summoner. Each one of the thousands charging down towards the Bat Warlock. Merlin still with his swords magically incantated; tightened his grip on the hilts. Drawing in a stiff air the exiled ghost catapulted towards the forgone souls.

Jumping into the fearing fray. The Bat Warlock peered and spiraled his two swords. By using his inflamed blade, the Bat Warlock vaporized four of the ghosts hearing there fleshed out squeals. By using his ice bogged sword to cutely incapacitate six ghosts on his right side, their agonizing shrills could be heard throughout the courtyard.

The horrid beats circled around the Bat Warlock, each one taking a pop shot at the outlaw. Taking turns in their attempt to put down the shadowy sorcerer. Merlin was doing his best to keep up the fight. Unfortunately, the human aspects of his being began to take hold of him once more. Feeling the drenching saliva gritted upon his gums and teeth from the breathlessness. Vast beating his heart started to pace. Merlin knew it would not be long before the wariness destroyed him as he took down another ghoul with his flamed bade.

"This is what she wants." The Bat Warlock started to realize reaping away three more ghosts. The circled enclosure! It wasn't formed for convenience "She wants it this way, she wants them to be in this formation." The Bat Warlock frustratingly sliced away another batch of ghouls hearing more horrible screams in the aftermath.

"The screams, the screams are to make me loose my focus." The thought passed I sync with another slashing from his iced blade. "The ghosts, her ghosts are to wear me down." The second consideration swayed just as the flamed sword cleaved off the upper half of the ghastly spirit. "Lady Scarecrow, oh Lady Scarecrow." The Bat Warlock misleading humored. "She's just waiting by them." Merlin returned his focus onto the battle made circle he was centered within "Making me exhausted and alone. The worst place I could possibly be in. No call for help, no aid from the others. Just my frazzled mind. I wouldn't hear…. I wouldn't notice her."

The exiled ghost peeked out the circled-up horrors surrounding him. Each one blended with the other. An entire pattern of watery skeletal vipers. Not one truly standing out. The Bat Warlock could already feel the next bunch about to intercept him. However, unlike the previous times of combat, the Bat Warlock would change his tactics for the next round.

"Zimitsani tsopano" Merlin ordered his armaments. The spell caused the enflamed fire to di down on his wing shaped sword and the ice blokes to melt off Morgana's sword. The Bat Warlock weaponry returned to their original natural states.

Merlin's eyes masterfully twitched towards the ghouls. Even though it was not his spell's intention the see though followers seemed to cease their onslaught. Perhaps surprised by the Bat Warlock's sudden desire to downgrade. The outlaw continued withdrawal from enhancement by re sheathing his winged blade on his back. Leaving Morgana's sword as his only weapon. True he had his knife but even the ghosts could tell he had no plan on using the small fickle.

The Bat Warlock felt the hymning from the banshees. A somewhat quire forged by the those who were unable to pass over into heaven or worse hell. A song from the dead, was the best way Merlin could explain this uncontrolled melody of whispers and scratching.

The Bat Warlock with held the hilt of Morgana's sword onto his chest. Treating the steeled item as a form of comfort. As if it was the very last friend he would ever have in his life. Merlin shunted his eyes. Sealing both eyeballs down, his eye lids locking blocking out any vision humanly or mystical. True one would not be able to now this as Merlin's mask hide away his eyes, but Merlin was gambling on the knowledge Lady Scarecrow's prowess would give her the instinct to know he had done this action.

No more ideas, no more spells, no more coming into face. The last dragon had warned him regardless of what benefits the ritual may have done to him. Merlin was still a mortal boy, as the Bat Warlock he was still a mortal boy. The magic charms and fighting techniques bestowed upon him were now useless. The only weapon left in Merlin's arsenal now, was his instinct and senses. Merlin dinged his booted claws firmly down to the stoned blocks. If magic was apart nature, and if he was prophesied to be the embodiment of magic, then by all the given evidence was he not too an embodiment of nature? Of the very planet he treaded on. Did he not have the power, the ability to know by himself who was treading upon him?

"Time to see if the lizard was right after all."

Th Bat Warlock didn't think or move or do anything which could be considered sentient. The outlaw might have been a stoned statue. The only company were the lost souls encasing him, singing their horrible chants…. "But only the chants." Merlin started to understand. While making physical contacts in their fights, it would appear the ghosts were unable to create or even fake any other physical action. "Including a simple step." The ghosts didn't have any gravity in their movement for they only floated.

"Unlike, her." It all came down to the vibration of the ground below him. Just one small step, just one to give his feet a tune, an alert to know she was coming. The Bat Warlock stayed in his solidary placement.

A clocked figure left the army of ghouls.

"One step."

She strolled carefully toward Merlin behind his back.

"Two steps."

She took out her scythe ever so silently.

"Three steps."

Lady Scarecrow raised her menacingly weapon proudly high. Fully prepared now to deal the final blow. The hollowed bill hook slivering upwards Merlin's back. Hovering chillingly, not escaping from its established lock on.

Lady Scarecrow snickered. The demoness truly had a fun time playing with this rouge and his friends, but like all good things they must ultimately come to end. She would make sure the Bat Warlock learnt this lesson as he bled on the cold cubed floors. Having her weapon finally in the placement she desired Lady Scarecrow backed up her scythe steadily and finally thrusted her joyous cut.

She expected to hear him screaming, she wanted to see him crawling for his life. Instead she felt Morgana's sword shoved straight into her chest. Lady Scarecrow didn't move, she couldn't rather instead she found herself gradually loose her artificial bodily control. The demoness scythe crashed down to the grounds leaving a booming quaking howl as it did so.

A rush of mystifying green and purple orison lights paved out of her body the moment a drop of her mutated blood perched the gravelled grounds. The auraed lights shined throughout the castle's walls. For every corner it touched a mercy had been given to the living. In the same manner as a torched insect swatter the royals used on a summer's day. The light began its undoing of the demoness unholy army. The apparitions were blown away like leaves in a gust of wind. The strawed corpses started to falter. Losing their footing, arms casually falling out of their sockets and simply just giving up as they crashed down lazily in their current position within the courtyard much to the army's surprise.

Uther and Morgana rose from where they were burgundy seated when the Bat Warlock saved the two royals. The King maintained his protective grip on his ward, not fully transiting the surprised miracle which had just transpired. Morgana on the other side, her prime concern and focus was the figure who took hold of her sword.

In the misty distance, the ward could make out the wizardly outlaw. While everything had changed around her and the kingdom she loved. The only two who retained their previous standing of the Hallowed War of Midnight was the Bat Warlock and her sword which he used to gut the Lady Scarecrow who right now was clinging onto the last breaths of her measly life.

The exiled ghost looked down coldly at his slayed to be assassin. With one word left he wished to exchange with her "Four." He coolly answered kicking the villainess off Morgana's sword. As her chest left the blade her mutated blood slimed down the steel in a joint process.

The Bat Warlock stabbed the sword onto a highway slap just as Morgana had done previously. Hoping the weapon's original owner would know how to collect the item without his interference. Just as the Bat Warlock was making his escape a whimpering pitiful voice stopped him in his track.

"Why?" Lady Scarecrow groaned.

The Bat Warlock turned around to face the fallen laying demoness "What?"

"Why?" She repeated. "You're a demon, an abomination, a monster just like me? Why…...why…...why were you so different? It doesn't make any sense. You should just be like me. Not the other way round. It goes against our nature" Lady Scarecrow pounded as her last breaths throbbed out of her throat.

Now the Bat Warlock fully concentrated his sight on the fallen villain. Like a titan the Bat Warlock stormed mightily down and bent to be right in view of Lady Scarecrow's dyeing eyes. Raising his right hand, the vigilante ripped off the black layer covering his mouth and jaw.

Exposing the entirety of his mouth. His soft white buttered skin mouth "Do I look like a monster?" Merlin asked intimidatingly.

Just seeing his human mouth. A strange feeling crept onto Lady Scarecrow during her final moments of both her life and the evening itself. Her heart pounded, she couldn't control it, greenish blood splattered more out of her wound. "Your…. your…...your normal!" She screamed horrifically, sparingly. "Your normal!" She repeated more terrifyingly. "Your…gah…Normal!" She belched out a spat of blood before closing her eyes, for the final time ever. Dying feeling true fear for the first time in her existence.

The Bat Warlock stood up and impassively reviewed the corpse of the wasteful creature. Her last words ringing through his ears. Repeating and repeating repeatedly. Words which made the boy remember parts of his childhood he prayed to forget about.

"No, I'm not normal." The Bat Warlock attacked a grappling arrow to his gloved crossbow "I never was." Finishing off the sentence the outlaw shot the arrow into and took off swinging to one of the castle's roofs leaving the rotten ill corpse behind.

Camelot the Dawn of morning

The Autumn sun unerringly awoken from its natural slumber. The motherly breeze of red and brown leaves cascaded through the light showery rain. Yet a calming soothing foggy light still found it way to embrace the battled recent army.

The rain may have been weak, but the knights took full advantage of the skyed spit. Creating a makeshift camp near the castle's stairway. Wiping the water around their faces proudly and happily. Feeling a sensational clean wipe away the anger and fear from their skin and souls.

Artur and Leon made their way to meet and greet every troop they could find. Giving each lad a pat on a shoulder; words of praise such as "Good work" and "We couldn't have done his without you." Filled the regrouped battle-hardened camp.

As Leon continued the personal rewards of the troop's heroism. Arthur's mind fell elsewhere as the sight of his farther and foster sister hand in hand made their way to the knightly group. Gladness filled the prince's heart as Arthur ran with joy. Reaching the two people who he truly could not live without.

Morgana embraced Arthur without a second thought. Kissing his blood scared cheek lovingly and Uther. The king who was famously known for his cold private exterior. Actually, smiled peacefully at his son. Ruffling the prince's hair playfully not caring if the solders or even the peasants if there were any in the area saw him be so open.

The loving moment of family reunion would be paused when one of the knights pointed to one castle's spiked towers. Gasp's paved through the small encampment. The royal trio of Pendragons turned to face what had caused the surprised stir of feeling.

Their question was quickly answered. The Bat Warlock stood on the roof of the physician's tower. Using his left arm to keep in balance to not fall. The outlaw didn't do anything nor show any sign he was planning anything malicious. The creature of Camelot simply was looking down on his fellow subjects from what he considered a safe spot.

No words were exchanged between the two forces. Just an eye down. Not even Uther had ranted out orders to seize the exiled ghost. Just an unusual and somehow understandable silence. The showery rain dripped and dropped on the Bat Warlock's edited mask and coat. Considering how high up he was the outlaw must have been freezing from the sky level he was on par with. Yet he still kept his stance and his distance. Like an untamed wild animal trying to understand if the humans before him his friends or his hunters.

One of the younger knights Sir Pellinore approached the king carefully "Your majesty, what do you want us to do?" Pellinore asked gripping the tilt of his sheathed sword on his belt. "We have some spare arrows we could try shoot him down by your comma…"

Pellinore was stopped by Uther as the king placed his stronger grip on the young knights' hilt. Making sure there was no way for the eager warrior to draw his sword. Despite Uther not directing his attention at knight's direction the king none the less gave his orders.

"I will have him one day, that vow has in no way changed, but for now as his king. I shall allow him a safe passage…. just for today at least." Uther commanded stiffly but certainly.

Arthur and Morgana looked at their protector in utter shock. Uther a man who had a genuine zero tolerance to magic, who time and time again verbally bashed the very outlaw who was peering down upon them. Was actually giving the vigilante a legitimate pass.

Even the other knights seemed to be admonished by this order. Many believed both inside the lands of Camelot and the outskirts of the rest of Albion. Hell would truly freeze all over before Uther would ever give a magical being a such an allowance.

The deadly silence took hold of the army. No one really knowing what to do with the matter. Leon on the other hand knew what exactly needed to be done. The head of the knights began clapping his hands together with a smile on his face. Many of the soldiers were confused by this gesture, then Morgana began to clap as well joining in his praise with a sweetly grateful expression on her face. Arthur joined in clapping his expression more withheld but still truly respectful to his rival.

Soon each person of that group joined in the thankful clapping for their surprised helper. A roar of praise could be heard that morning by many in the castle walls. While Uther did not clap, the king still gave a humble nod to the outlaw. The king's views on magic had not changed but for the sake of knight he had been he would honour his fellow protector.

The Bat Warlock seeing the wonderous applause, like the king gave a humble nod in return. Recognizing their thankfulness for his support in the Hallow War. It was all Merlin needed for reward. While listening to the claps was lovely the Bat Warlock knew he had other matters which required his attention. Shooting off another grappling arrow the outlaw whisked away into the sun leaving the on goers in wonderment.

The suburbs of Camelot.

No longer standing on the edge. Th Bat Warlock swung from tree to tree within Camelot's forest. A stray of Albion feeling the showered rain dabble harder onto his outfit. Throughout the swinging Merlin touched his revealed mouth. It had been his original intention to re patch it, but for some reason it felt better being exposed. True it would increase probability of people calculating who he maybe despite having the majority of the mask covering his face but still the young wizard felt an odd feeling of betterment with this exposure. A piece of humanity added onto his Bat Warlock persona.

Swinging for the final time the Bat Warlock stopped right next to a lake. The grounds he had landed on were covering in grey mud and orange leaves, but it didn't matter to him. This lake, seeing the waterfall course down to the riverbend. Sincerity cooed out from the scenery. Easing the recent tensions, the outlaw had been previously feeling.

The Bat Warlock took out the knife from his belted sash. The same knife which had been used to stab Gaius, the very weapon which had reshaped his life. For better or worse that was a question Merlin still needed to discover. Looking over the dammed weapon which took the life of his Great Uncle. Merlin felt another ease feeling the blade.

The Bat Warlock looked at the rising sun. All he could see was Gaius loving face. A man full of affection and care. Not a man who wanted to punish or curse. A man who just valued forgiveness. Merlin returned to the knife. The bitterness the weapon once gnawed at his soul seemed to have lost its mental teeth.

"You don't need it."

"Gaius!" The Bat Warlock cried looking all over the riverbend franticly. No matter how hard he tried Merlin could not see his Great Uncle anywhere. Merlin brayed the kitchen knife a little more, perhaps the mouth gap wasn't the only thing he would be changing in his outfit.

With a heart throbbing swing. Merlin casted the bloody kitchen knife to the river. A small pong was formed by the impact as the kitchen knife drowned forever deep into the river's majesty. Feeling a horrid weight had been lifted. Merlin turned his sights back to the morning sun.

The boy would continue to be the Bat Warlock, this was for certain. Right choice or the wrong choice, that subject still needed to be decided but for now, he would do hid duty. Merlin would keep the promise he made to Gaius. When he sought out the last dragon to become the Bat Warlock it was during a time Merlin had nothing left to lose, now he more to lose than he ever thought. Arthur, Gwen, Uther, Leon…. Morgana. He couldn't lose any of them. The last days proved this much to him.

The Bat Warlock may be dammed to be a stray in Camelot, but he would be a stray which did the right thing. The bat Warlock shot out another grappling arrow towards a tree above the waterfall. Almost as if he attached the device to the rising sun directly.

The rain finally stopped; the Bat Warlock positioned himself. Merlin may never know where the truth of his life may lie but the whisper in his head, it was a voice so strong a clear and from this riverbank alone he could see a million stories already in the works. Camelot, Albion all of it would be remembered.

Shooting off into the rising sun, The Bat Warlock would agree with one part of his destiny. "My job is to help it along."

THE END

Finally done wooth. I did plan to get tis chapter done before Halloween but work was being lousy and I broke my back a bit; but I promised myself I would get this done; but I must admit one of big factors finishing this last chapter was Kevin Conroy.

When I heard the sad news that Kevin Conroy has sadly passed away. For those who don't know him he played Batman in the legendary animated series. The guy had such a strength to him. A understanding of the character, he could be hard, he could be gentle but he was always amazing. He played the character in various shows and games such as Justice League and the Arkham games and many other projects. He is probably one of if not the longest actor to play this legenadary chracter but for myslef when I comes to batman people will think of Adam west, Christaion bale or Michel Keaton but to me this dude was my Batman and he always will be.